


You can always come home

by Wayward_Unicorn



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sparrow Academy (Umbrella Academy), BAMF Number Five | The Boy, Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Family Dynamics, Heavily Inspired by Teen Wolf Season 6A, Hurt Diego Hargreeves, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Hurt Vanya Hargreeves, Klaus is Psychic, M/M, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy Whump, Number Five | The Boy-centric, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Some Doctor Who-esque Elements, Temporary Character Death, The Holy Trinity of Angst Fluff and Smut, Time Travel, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, five and luther are twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27057064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Unicorn/pseuds/Wayward_Unicorn
Summary: Vanya’s face froze to a breathless, voiceless scream.(Remember-)He was gone.And suddenly, she could no longer recall what it was she’d been so upset about. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing here, anyway - sitting in a dark corner all by herself?Confused, Vanya got up to her shaky legs. Had she been sleepwalking?The air smelled like thunder. Like electricity.How peculiar.// Five's existence is a paradox in itself; time has to fix itself somehow.Only few things are certain in the universe, and one of them is that the Hargreeves siblings cannot catch a break.First storyline is now complete!
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Life, Five Hargreeves & Delores, Five Hargreeves & Happiness, Klaus Hargreeves & Self Care, Vanya Hargreeves & Mental Health
Comments: 144
Kudos: 380





	1. The Strange Disappearance of Five Hargreeves

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first TUA fic. I was inspired by Teen Wolf's sixth season, and the beginning of this story follows a similar narrative. I do plan on having several storylines, as I do have multiple ideas, but we'll see how it goes. Hope you enjoy the read.

_They say that_

_to be forgotten_

_is worse_

_than death._

* * *

  
  
  


Where are they?

_My family._

Where was he?

_I’m alone. Only darkness._

Who was he?

_My name… is Number Five._

Why?

_Time always reclaimed what was his._

Did he still exist?

_Do I still exist?_

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Vanya gasped out a shuddering breath as they landed in what appeared to be the darkened hall of the Academy. 

“Oh, good God”, Diego grunted, reeling from the rough landing. 

Home. They were home, they’d done it. 

There was a newspaper on the table nearby, and Five pried it out from under the ornate statue. 

“Wh-what date is it?” asked Luther, his nausea leaking through to his voice. 

Vanya felt dizzy. She had to sit down.

“April second, 2019”, her brother stated. “The day after the apocalypse.” 

A choir of relieved sighs and nervous laughter filled the space. 

“Oh my _God_ ”, Klaus giggled. “Did we actually succeed at something? That’s _incredible_!”

Vanya felt so relieved she was dizzy. He felt Klaus wrap his arms around her, and she returned the hug gladly. 

It was nice to be held by somebody. 

He suggested a drink. She was completely and totally down for that. 

They began slowly retreating to the living room. 

“Dad’s Irish whiskey”, Klaus pulled out a fancy, expensive-looking bottle from behind the counter. “Over fifty years old. For special occasions only.”

He popped the cork and smelled the aroma. Vanya giggled, as he rolled his eyes back theatrically. 

Five grunted something at him. Klaus poured the boy a glass, and he immediately poured it down his throat. 

“More, please.”

“Five”, Allison frowned. “Your body is thirteen. You’re going to ruin your liver before you turn twenty.”

He rolled his eyes. “For the last time, Allison, I’m not an alcoholic. God, you’re starting to sound like Delores.”

Vanya watched them bicker, a warm smile climbing to her face. She was so filled with emotion, so filled with _love_ towards these people, she thought she’d burst.

Her family. They were finally okay. Even if it was just this moment, just this minute… they were okay. 

* * *

Five stared at himself in the mirror. Something was wrong. 

Had barely been an hour since they came back home. That’s all it took - an hour of peace and quiet, exactly _one hour_ of not having to worry about any impending doom, and then something went wrong. 

Five couldn’t figure out what it was. He didn’t feel alright. Could it be the whole rewinding time-thing? Maybe his body was still adjusting to not having bullets in it? 

No, that didn’t really make sense. 

The boy rubbed at his tired eyes, leaning against the sink. 

Suddenly, an angry surge of pure-blue energy sizzled through his veins, making his body jerk back violently. Panting, Five stared at himself again. 

So, it was about his ability. It was misbehaving. Micromanaging itself, probably. That’s what it was. He’d just refrain from using his powers for now, waiting for the anomaly to sort itself out. 

Five was well aware he was only calming himself down. There was something _very_ wrong. His powers never did this, he never used them involuntarily. 

He finished drying his hair with a towel and slipped into a fresh, clean set of clothes. 

He’d go downstairs, and see if his siblings were okay. Maybe their abilities were acting out as well. 

By the time Five reached the grand staircase, it happened again. 

He felt his energy _burn_ inside him, the blue electricity crackling through his blood, the anomaly making his cells whine and whimper in agony. 

_What is this?_

Five realized he was on all fours, collapsed by the stairs. 

This wasn’t microjumping. No, it couldn’t be. This was something else. 

His head was pounding. The ground seemed to sway under his feet, the corners of his world slowly turning grey. 

Five shook his head. Not now. He had to make sure everyone else was okay. 

This was nothing. 

He pushed himself to his feet, taking support from the railing, and slowly dragging his legs to move. 

Apparently, most of his siblings had retreated to their rooms already, but Allison and Luther were still in the living room. They were both enjoying a glass of wine by the fire, the woman’s laughter echoing in the hallway to some remark Luther had made. 

Five let out a relieved breath. Thank god, they seemed fine. 

Allison spotted him, and to the boy’s confusion, her face turned… angry. 

Upset. Confused. 

She got up on her feet, putting down the glass of wine. 

Five didn’t understand. Why was she looking at him like that?

“Who are you?” she demanded. “How did you get in here?”

Now, this didn’t really make sense. Five’s throat felt suddenly really dry and closed up. 

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure if his heart was beating. 

Was he dying?

“Hey”, Luther joined her, the giant’s tone equally angry. “You can’t be in here.”

They both approached him, and Five took a few shaky, instinctive steps back. 

Luther grabbed his arm. He wasn’t squeezing hard, but his grip was probably strong enough to hold anyone. 

“You need to leave”, he said. “We’ve had fans trying to break in before, and it’s ridiculous. This is our home.”

“Let go of me, Luther, you oaf”, Five finally choked, pushing himself away from the man. Allison raised her brows at the interaction. 

“Seriously, who do you think you are, breaking in here like that?” she stated. “Where are your parents? Maybe I should give them a call.”

No.

No, no, no. 

“Guys, you can stop with the prank, it’s clearly not making me laugh”, Five growled. 

“I’ve had enough of this”, Luther decided, making a move to grab his arm again, most likely to drag him out of the house. 

_This can’t be happening._

Five felt like he was drowning, his heartbeat impossibly, _deafeningly_ loud in his ears. 

“Hey, kid, you alright?” a sudden concern had crept into Allison’s voice, her brown eyes turning from harsh to a softer tone. “Seriously, maybe I should call your parents. You shouldn’t be here, but you’re looking really pale.”

“Stop it”, Five panted, trying to keep the pleading tone away from his ragged voice. “Just… stop it.”

“Kid, for the last time, you can’t-”

Five stared at their dumbfounded faces, then turning around to blink away. The jump made him reel with nausea, but he ignored it. Allison and Luther were both shouting in confusion, no doubt looking around to see where he’d disappeared. 

_This can’t be happening. This can’t be real._

_It just can’t._

Five couldn’t think straight. He was on the verge of a panic attack, and he preferred to save that for later. 

Vanya. She wouldn’t ever go for pranks like this, he had to find her. 

Had to talk to her. 

Five heard noises from the hallway. He recognized it to be Diego’s - the man was probably talking with their mom. 

Surely they would know who he was. 

Five ran towards the noises, but in a sudden and _agonizing_ surge of his powers, flickering through him like a lightning, his knees locked and he fell face-first to the floor. 

He breathed heavily, his whole body twitching and shivering as the volatile energy attempted to settle itself within his body. 

_What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fu-_

Five stifled a whimper, scrambling back to his feet. 

“Diego?” his voice sounded paper-thin. 

The man in question was in deep conversation with their robot mother. They were looking at all the paintings in her own little corner, talking with soft voices. 

Both their heads turned in his direction. 

Diego frowned in confusion, slowly getting to his feet. 

He didn’t seem angry. 

That was probably a good sign. 

Five wanted to ask him a question, but all that came out was some inconsistent rambling. 

Mom got up, her beautiful features curved to a concerned frown. 

“Come on, darling, slow down”, she shushed, putting her hand on his shoulder. “What are you talking about? You don’t look so good.”

“Oh, thank god”, Five almost cried. “You know me. Of course you know me. I’m just being… I’m just being ridiculous. I mean, why would everyone be forgetting everything, huh? That wouldn’t really make any sense, now would it-”

“Hey”, Diego stopped his ramble, gesturing the boy to calm down, like he was some panicked animal. “Calm down. Are you okay? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

Five stared at him, mouth slightly agape. “No, no, I’m not okay, I-”

“Why don’t you sit down?” his mom tried to guide her towards the chair. Five felt another wave of nausea hit him like a freight train, and the floor looked terribly inviting. His legs felt like they were going to give out under him. 

“Fine, okay”, Five obliged, sitting down, and rubbing his face with shaky fingers. "Okay."

Grace knelt down in front of him, flashing him a reassuring smile. Oh, it felt so good to see her again, he hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed the woman who’d raised them. 

Bless her, thought Five. 

“Now”, she spoke, squeezing his hand. “Why don’t you start by telling us your name.”

_No._

He was falling. 

_Please, no._

His ears were ringing. 

_This can’t be happening._

Someone was grabbing his shoulder. They were talking. 

Five couldn’t bring himself to listen. 

He just stared Diego in the face, watching his dark brown eyes study his face, and realizing that his brother had absolutely no idea who he was.

He felt as though he was moving through quicksand, as he pushed them back, fastening his pace to a sprint. 

He heard Diego yell. He jumped. 

Klaus and Vanya’s rooms were completely empty. They must’ve gone out for a walk or something. Five could still find them.

They were his last hope. Because if they didn’t remember him, then…

Then all was lost. 

His back arched as the merciless energy struck through his body once again. This time he was pretty sure he was screaming. It lasted longer than before, too. 

Five was left shivering on the floor. He couldn’t move. 

He was _terrified._

There were hurried footsteps somewhere below him. Five swallowed, eyes locking onto the phone on the wall. 

With sheer willpower, he managed to pry himself from the floor and over to the telephone. 

He was crying. He didn’t care.

Swallowing his tears, Five slammed in Vanya’s number, slowly bringing the ringer to his ear. 

_Please. Please, please, please._

_Pick up._

She didn’t. The call eventually cut off after it received no answer. 

Five sniffled, refusing to give up just yet. 

Klaus had a phone, too, and the boy had learned all their numbers within five minutes. 

The phone rang once. 

Twice. 

Thrice. 

“ _Hellooo?”_

Five had never in his life been as relieved to hear somebody’s voice. 

Klaus had actually picked up. Vanya’s phone must’ve been on silent. 

“Klaus? 

“ _Hey_!”

“W-where are you?” Five asked, his voice wavering. “Where are you right now?”

“ _Who is this?”_

Why was his heart beating so loud? 

“ _Oh, is this a ghost or some shit? I’ve had a few calls from you dead lot, but I must say, the previous ones have been way creepier…”_

He heard a familiar voice in the background, asking Klaus who was on the phone. 

“Vanya…” he whispered to himself, staring at the wall in the dark. 

Klaus hung up. 

All his years in the apocalypse, all his time in the Commission, and yet…

He’d never felt this _profoundly_ alone.

* * *

Vanya looked at her brother, brows raised in question. 

“Sounded like Five”, she said. “Has something happened?”

Klaus stared back for a few seconds, taking his cigarette out of his mouth. “Huh?”

Vanya frowned, repeating her question. 

“Sis, I got no idea what you’re talking about”, Klaus shrugged. “That was just some dead kid phoning me. I don’t know how ghosts keep getting my number, but hey - it happens.”

Swallowing, Vanya shook her head slightly. “No, it was definitely Five. I heard his voice. Your volume was so loud.”

Klaus stared back at her in confusion, puffing a cloud of smoke from between his lips. “Who’s Five?”

Vanya blinked a few times, her heart rate raising a few beats higher. “Stop messing about, Klaus. You know who Five is. You’re not being funny.”

Klaus had stopped walking, and he was looking at her with a funny look on his face. “I promise, I don’t know who that is.”

“Our brother”, Vanya’s voice trembled ever so slightly. She didn’t like the hollow feeling of dread growing in the pit of her stomach. 

“Let’s see”, Klaus put up his fingers. “We have brother Number One. Brother Number Two. _Sister_ Number Three. Me. _Deceased_ brother Number Six. And you.”

“You missed Five”, she whispered. “Y-you forgot, he’s supposed to be between you and Ben.”

Klaus frowned, biting his lip. “Yeah, I suppose it is a bit weird how the old man left that one out. Who knows - maybe he just disliked the number? Maybe it’s a number of bad luck in some culture?”

Vanya’s knees felt weak. Klaus wouldn’t mess around like this. 

“We need to go back to the Academy”, she told him, swallowing down the bile that had gathered to the back of her throat. “I have a horrible feeling.”

Klaus raised his brows but nodded slightly. “Yeah, sure. You look a bit pale. It is a bit chilly out here.”

Vanya’s head was pounding. The lights of the city blurred to the background, the voices turning into ringing. 

_How had Klaus managed to forget Five?_

_Selective amnesia?_

She’d started running. 

Her lungs had trouble expanding, the air failing to fulfill her with the oxygen it required. 

Vanya’s heart was pounding so loud, she thought it might pop right off her chest. She felt her powers swim restlessly under her skin, searching for a target for her distress, begging for a release.

The Academy drew in closer and closer. Klaus was struggling to keep up, but Vanya didn't care. She had to hurry. 

There was something blue flashing in the window on the highest floor. 

“Five”, she whispered, rushing to push open the gate. 

Her lungs were stinging.

The entrance hall was dark. “Five?” she yelled, jumping up three stairs at a time. 

Diego was chatting with Grace in the hallway of the second floor, and they raised their gaze upon her arrival. 

“Woah, you okay Vanya?” her brother looked slightly reserved, clearly searching for signs of another potentially world-ending breakdown. 

“Five”, she sniffled. “Is he upstairs?”

“Who?” Grace tilted her head in confusion. 

“We’ve never had a Five, you know that”, Diego backed her up, brows raised in question as he watched Vanya. 

She swallowed, shaking her head. 

She had to find him. Leaping up the stairs, she started hearing static noises from the very back of the floor. 

Vanya saw the blue light shining from under the door, creating dancing shadows to the darkened corridor. 

Swallowing, she pushed open the door. 

_Five._

He looked so small, so fragile, leaning his back against the wall, knees pressed against his chest. 

The boy was glowing. No, more like-

“Five, you’re… _flickering_ ”, she whispered, falling to her knees next to him, hesitating whether she should touch him or not. 

As if awakened from a trance, the boy’s head popped up. His green irises were alit from the energy dancing beneath his skin, the look in his red-rimmed eyes nothing short of _tortured._

“You know me”, he choked. 

Vanya’s heart broke at the sound of his voice. So lost. So small. “I know you”, she told him with a sob, grabbing his hands. “But everyone else…”

The energy was _immense._ It was volatile, wayward, and it was _burning_ her skin.

She didn’t care. 

“Yeah”, Five’s voice was barely audible over the sound of sizzling and cracking, blue electricity slithering under his skin. 

He was starting to flicker faster, like a light bulb about to go out. 

“What’s happening to you?” Vanya cried, plump tears falling down her cheeks. 

Five let out a short and breathy laugh, completely devoid of humor. “I’m thinking the timeline’s fixing itself”, he then said, and Vanya was terrified by how it began to sound distorted. “I’m a paradox, Vanya. I’m an anomaly.”

“W-what does that even mean?” she begged, and for the love of god, it was starting to look like his blue light was _fading._

_(Make it stop.)_

“Take it this way”, Five leaned closer, groaning softly as a particularly strong surge of energy made him flinch, “We stopped the apocalypse from happening. Why? Because I told you guys about it. Because I spent forty years in a post-apocalyptic world. But what happens”, he took a small break to breathe in deep, flickering more and more, “when it never happened in the first place? Normally, when the timeline’s changed, it creates a new branch… but something went wrong this time. Too many paradoxes. Too many anomalies.”

He smiled somberly, raising his glowing hand to wipe away Vanya’s tears. “Time’s just trying to fix itself. It’s... _erasing_ me.”

_(NO.)_

“No, no, no”, Vanya shook her head, her own powers humming rhythmically beneath her skin. She couldn’t breathe. “Can’t you… can’t you stop it?”

Five’s eyes were so big and sad and they were staring right at her, and he said nothing. 

_(This can't be happening.)_

“Please, don’t go, not again”, Vanya begged. She knew it wasn’t fair, but Five couldn’t just give up, he couldn’t just lay here and let this happen, he should be coming up with some crazy plan to stop this all from happening. “We just got you back, for the love of…”

Her voice broke, and she couldn’t hold back the sob escaping her mouth. 

It was suffocating. 

_(I can't breathe.)_

Five let out a shuddering breath, raising his hand to level his eyes with morbid fascination. 

His hand was dissipating into thin air - not unlike the way Ben’s spirit had slowly turned into flakes of pure energy, to be blown away with the wind. 

Vanya tried to instinctively grab it, felt her fingers reach nothing but thin air. 

Five tilted his head, trying to reach her eyes. "You're gonna forget me."

She looked at him, a rolling wave of nausea washing over her. "No I won't", she swallowed down the bile. 

_(I won't.)_

Five looked at her with pity, with despair. "Oh, Vanya, you will."

Gasping for breath, uncontrollable, hacking sobs escaping her lungs, Vanya pulled Five into her arms and held onto him like a lifeline. 

She felt him bury his face into the nape of her neck, returning the embrace. 

He was cold. The air around him rippled. 

“Try and find some way to remember me, okay?” he whispered into her ear. His voice was trembling. 

_(Please, don't go. Don't go. Don't go.)_

Oh god, she was so scared.

He was disappearing right beneath her fingers. Just like Ben. 

“Please, stay”, Vanya begged, but she knew there was no stopping it. 

_(Don't leave me.)_

She squeezed her eyes shut. 

“Remember”, said Five, voice turning inaudible towards the end. 

Vanya’s face froze to a breathless, voiceless scream. 

_(Remember-)_

He was gone. 

And suddenly, she could no longer recall what it was she’d been so upset about. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing here, anyway - sitting in a dark corner all by herself?

Confused, Vanya got up to her shaky legs. Had she been sleepwalking? 

The air smelled like thunder. Like electricity. 

How peculiar. 


	2. Blinded By the Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how only one comment said 'oh wow cool start, hope to read more', and all the rest of you were a chorus of 'wtf', 'no', and 'why must you hurt me this way'.  
> Jokes on you, it only fuels my sadism.

Allison woke up with a nagging headache. She grunted softly while tiptoeing down the stairs to make herself a cuppa. It was barely eight, and she’d usually sleep longer. 

She walked into the kitchen, reaching the aspirin jar being her current goal. The woman was surprised to find that someone else was already there. 

“Vanya?” she greeted with a yawn. Her sister was making a sandwich by the counter with an adorable bedhead and PJs which still seemed to fit her after seventeen years. 

“Morning”, she smiled, glancing over her shoulder. Allison frowned. Why were her eyes wet?

“You okay?” she asked with a frown, slowly stitching up the distance between them. Vanya looked up at her in confusion. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, confused. 

Allison stared. “You're crying."

Her sister put down the peanut butter-covered knife, and brought a hand up to her face. She felt the wet tears around in her fingertips, frowning questioningly. 

“I don’t know”, she finally said quietly. 

Allison swallowed, reaching for the aspirin jar. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“Maybe”, Vanya shrugged, turning back to her sandwich. “Honestly? I’m not even sure why I’m making a fluffernutter. I don’t even like it that much.”

“Maybe you were sleepwalking”, Allison suggested.

To her surprise, the woman laughed as she sat down to eat her sandwich. 

“Actually, I had a similar experience just last night”, she admitted. 

“Oh?”

Vanya glanced at her passingly, swallowing down a mouthful. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I was sleepwalking last night. I was sitting in a corner upstairs, just staring at a wall. I remember being _really_ upset about something… but then I think I woke up.”

Allison swallowed down her pill, closing her stinging eyes for a second. “You must’ve been dreaming about something. I don’t remember you sleepwalking as a kid, though.”

“Yeah, I don’t believe I ever have before”, Vanya shrugged. “But then again, how would I know, right? Maybe I’ve been sleepwalking for years and just don't know about it.”

Allison hummed, eyes hovering towards the window, where the morning sun’s first beams were pushing through into the shadowy kitchen. 

“So, what now?” she asked quietly, more to herself than to Vanya. 

She replied anyway. “Whatever we want. But I’d prefer it if we stayed together this time. No more radio silence, you know?”

Allison glanced back at her, returning her smile. “Right now, all I want to focus on is getting Claire back in my life. I haven’t seen her in _two years._ ”

She took a sip of her coffee, then turned up her nose in surprise - it was so bitter she almost spat it out. Who bought this brew? 

And why did she just forget to add two sugars and milk? She never drank black coffee.

Allison brushed it off as her just being absent in the moment, too busy thinking about her daughter.

“You know, you're a very different person now than you were two years ago”, Vanya said, sipping her orange juice. “You’ll get visitation rights in no time.”

She was right, and Allison knew it. Her time in the past had truly made her a better person, and she had learned to love the new her. 

“Yeah”, she replied. “I just wish… that Ray could’ve been here.”

Vanya’s smile wavered, and a sorrow so deep it made Allison’s heart physically ache showed up in her deep brown eyes. 

“I understand that”, she said quietly. 

She was thinking about Sissy, obviously.

They’d both fallen in love back there, and they’d both been forced to let go. 

And it _hurt._ Allison hadn’t loved any man quite the same way she’d loved Ray - and it was so royally _unfair_ that she wouldn’t get to spend the rest of her life with him. 

“We’ll make it”, she then said, putting her hand over Vanya’s. 

Her sister turned her head, looking back at her from under her brows. 

“You’ve changed a lot, too”, Allison stated, and she wasn’t lying. Vanya truly was a different person now that she was off her medication, now that she had truly _found_ herself. There was a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there before - it had been dimmed by her abusive past, but it was back now. 

“You lost Sissy and Harlan, yes, but… you’re so much stronger, and so much more open”, she added. “Have you tried playing your violin yet?”

The sorrow in Vanya’s eyes dissipated. “It’s probably at my apartment. I’d have to go there.”

Allison poured milk in her coffee. “Wanna go together?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

* * *

Diego traced his fingers along the dining room table. The wood was so well taken care of, but old cracks still told about its history. He smiled faintly at a particularly distinctive crack in the wood - looked like it was made by one of his knives, although he didn’t remember it happening. It wasn’t even his spot - it was… an empty spot. That’s right, no one had sat here. 

Funny, Diego thought. How he’d forget so much about what happened within these walls, about all the years they lived here. Admittedly, some of those things were best left forgotten - but there were still memories he cherished. 

Diego remembered a particularly sunny summer afternoon, when their dad had been on a good mood. He’d allowed them to go to the beach with Grace, and that afternoon was one of the best things about his entire childhood. Seven kids who barely ever got to go outside, were finally given the freedom to be just _kids_ just for a little while. 

… Nay, six. 

That’s right. Six kids. Luther and him had been competitively seeing who could swim up to the pontoon the fastest - Diego had always been an amazing swimmer, so he’d won. Allison, Klaus and Vanya had been making a majestic sand castle, and Ben was collecting sea shells with… no one. By himself. That’s right. Or maybe Grace helped him. 

“Heyy”, Diego’s head popped up as he heard Klaus’ greeting from the door. “Whatcha up to?`”

“Just thinking”, he admitted. “You happen to remember how this got here?”

He traced his fingers across the deep dent in the wood, and Klaus walked up to him to take a look. 

“Huh”, he grinned. “That’s from a knife. Now let me see - who in this house has an unhealthy obsession with knives?”

Diego rolled his eyes. “I’m telling you, I don’t remember doing this one.” 

Klaus shrugged. “Well, knife-boy… I was actually gonna ask you if you’re planning on getting rid of your, uh, hair?”

The vigilante’s hands flew up to his head, stroking his locks defensively. “No. I like it. Antonio Banderas.” 

Diego eyed at his brother suspiciously. “Are you gonna cut yours?”

“Nope. It's bohemian. I love it.”

“Hey guys?” Luther showed up in the doorway, making them both jump. “Sorry.”

“Hey, big guy”, Klaus greeted. “Slept well?”

“My bed is too small”, the man admitted with a frown. 

Diego snorted. “Have you tried keto?”

“For the last time, I’m not _fat_ ”, Luther growled, his eyes shooting daggers towards his brother. 

They heard giggles from the hallway, and turning around to look they saw Allison and Vanya walk up the staircase. They noticed them, and changed direction. 

“What’s going on here?” asked Allison curiously. 

“Nothing”, Diego replied with a smirk. “Just exchanging ‘good mornings’.”

Vanya raised her brows sceptically. 

“Hey, uh, what do we do now?” Klaus filled the silence. “Like… we did just stop the apocalypse - twice - and travelled back from the 60’s. But what now?”

Diego thought back to his vigilante passion, the very thing that he _loved_ doing. It was what got him up from the bed in the morning, what made him do the extra round of push-ups, what made him sleep every night with a knife under his pillow. 

He thought about the cramped back room at the gym, the dirty tile walls, the few material objects he actually owned. 

“I guess we go back to where we were”, he said slowly, the thought making him surprisingly depressed. 

Klaus bit his lip, but said nothing, glancing towards the girls instead. 

“I have a penthouse in Manhattan”, Allison said, staring off into the distance. “I’ll go there tonight, and figure out what to do next.”

“I’ll need to go back to the orchestra”, Vanya nodded. “I'm first chair now, and it comes with a lot of responsibility. I haven’t practiced in a _month._ ”

They nodded slightly in unison. 

“Klaus?” Diego questioned. “You got somewhere to go?”

The man was awakened from deep thought, squirming under his gaze. “Me? Oh yeaah, of course. ‘Course.”

“Right.”

Allison then glanced at Luther. “And you?”

Their Number One was silent. “Well, I’m sure as hell not going back to the moon, so… I guess I’ll stay here for now.”

“Right, well”, Klaus sighed, trying to lighten the suddenly very heavy mood in the room. “Let’s stay in touch, yeah? Have brunch sometime?”

* * *

  
  


Klaus stared at the entrance of the homeless shelter he’d spent most of his nights at. It was strange seeing it when he was sober. 

It had been three years since he’d been here. This place, to him, was nothing but a bad memory. He’d been in a much better place in his head in the recent years, hadn’t touched drugs at all during the years he spent in the past, and hadn’t even felt cravings since 1961. 

“‘Sup, Klaus”, a familiar man greeted him with a toothy smile, before heading inside. 

“Dirge”, he smiled faintly. 

This was his life. One homeless shelter to another. A desperate man in a bad place, fighting his inner demons, going down an endless road of self destruction. 

Klaus had found something else during his time in Dallas. His _cult_ was weird and his followers’ attitude towards him made him slightly sick to the stomach, but those people had been nothing but kind to him. Accepted him with all his quirks and ‘weird shit’, as Diego had once mentioned.

Life in the streets was _hard_. He knew a lot of people, and had done his best to avoid the ones that were bad news. He’d mostly succeeded. 

“I don’t know what to do”, he whispered, before realizing that Ben wasn’t there anymore. 

That’s right. He was all alone now. After enjoying his dead brother’s constant company for the past seventeen years, to the point of annoyance, he wasn’t surprised to see that it made him ache inside in a way that reminded him of the day he’d lost Dave.

_Dave_. 

Klaus would have to go visit the veteran bar again. To see if Dave’s picture was still there. To see if… if he’d listened.

* * *

Vanya’s apartment was so silent now, that Allison had left. They’d talked for an hour, she’d listened to her play, and then she’d left to go to her own home. She said something about setting up an appointment with the court-ordered therapist. 

Her fingers traced along the violin’s strings, their familiarity bringing a soft, warm feeling into her belly. She brought the instrument to her shoulder, closing her eyes. 

This violin had been her friend when no one else had. She’d poured her heart and soul into it, honing her skills with passion and ambition. This instrument was so loved, so cared for.

She’d found new aspects of herself during her time with Sissy - like that women were so much better to be with that men, that she was surprisingly good with children, and that she liked horses a lot. 

But _this_ is what she’d been missing. Her violin. Her _music._

Vanya put the bow on top of the strings, slowly beginning the tuning. Her hand was steady and accurate - like she’d never left. 

Her email had the sheet music to Paganini’s _Caprice No. 24_ , and as she looked through the notes she felt the familiar excitement rise in her chest. 

She’d missed this. Truly. 

Practicing kept her busy for hours, and she didn’t feel like stopping - but she had to take a break for the sake of her neck. It ached like hell, and she rubbed the tendons with her thumb. 

Vanya walked up to her armchair, looking around in her empty apartment, feeling such a wave of loneliness it almost closed her throat and clogged the flow of air.

She remembered sitting there, on the couch, thinking she’d killed her sister. 

It felt like it’d happened _years_ ago, in a different time. Almost like a bad dream.

But it happened. And Allison had forgiven her. And her siblings had accepted her. 

Vanya’s fingers caught a small stain on the chair, and she looked down to see something that looked suspiciously like blood soaked in the fabric. 

She didn’t know where that had come from, but for some reason it made her very sad.

As Vanya looked around in the silent apartment, coddling her violin against her chest like a child, she wondered why this place no longer felt like home. 

* * *

Diego cautiously opened the doors to the gym. Beefy guys were fighting each other in the ring, as always, and Al was yapping away at them - as always.

Same old, same old. 

Except that when he showed up, Al whistled the fight to a stop. The cranky old man breezed towards him with a grim look on his face. 

Diego braced himself for an earful. 

“You have until midday tomorrow to get your shit out of here”, Al stated matter-of-factly as soon as they were standing face-to-face. 

Diego wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “What?”

“You heard me, kid”, Al growled. “You disappeared for days. I've warned you not to pull this kind of shit, but you don't listen. I’ve had enough.”

“Okay, yeah, but in my defense”, Diego raised his hands up calmingly, “I had a really good reason. Had to stop a few apocalypses. Family emergency.”

Al shook his head slowly. “What’s with the wig?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

The man sighed, looking down. “I’m sorry, Diego. But enough is enough. You keep disappearing off to do God knows what. And someday someone who has a grudge on you is gonna show up in here, and burn the whole goddamn place down. You gotta go.”

Diego stared. “For real?”

“Yes. I want you out. Sorry.”

* * *

  
  


Allison pushed the key into the lock. Her apartment was on the 107th floor of one of the tallest buildings in Manhattan, on a pristine location with a view over the city. 

She used to love this place - back when she was vain, self-centered and materialistic. The modern interior design was stylish, sure, but the place looked _cold._

It was devoid of any personality. Allison found herself missing the beautiful home in South Dallas she’d shared with Ray. Maybe she should try and find him - find out what happened to him.

Allison walked further inside, throwing her coat to the nearby chair. She found her laptop, and it whirred to life with speed. 

Technology was one thing she had missed in the 60’s - everything was so much easier these days. She decided to start by googling his name.

_Raymond Chestnut._

The search results brought a smile to her face. Numerous news articles talked about his success as a civil rights organizer. Later in life, he’d lectured at a university. He’d talked about Rosa Parks, about how he’d met and stood by Martin Luther King…

There was a Wikipedia page about Ray. Allison swallowed, clicking on it with reserve. 

_Raymond Emmett Chestnut (5.7.1928 - 12.1.2008) was a successful human rights activist and professor. He was most known for organizing the famous sit-in at the Stadtler’s café in 1963, and for his work with Martin Luther King Jr._

He was dead. 

Of course he was. 

Allison wiped away the lonely tear that had dropped on her cheek. She had hoped that she could’ve seen him… one last time. 

Scrolling down to read about his personal life, she found out that he’d remarried in 1969, and that he’d fathered four children.

His first daughter was named Alice. 

She laughed through her tears. Ray had lived a good, long life, and had gotten everything he’d ever dreamed of. 

He’d been happy. 

So could Allison complain? Not really. A life like that was something she could only yearn for - but she knew deep down, that a normal life was off the charts for them. 

The Hargreeves siblings didn’t get to have things like that. 

Allison listened to the silence in her large penthouse, and a ghost of a shiver ran down her spine. 

She was lonely, she realized. It hadn’t bothered her as much before - sure, she’d been missing Claire every single day, thought about her every night she went to bed, and she was always the first thing on her mind when she’d wake up. 

But this was different. Allison missed talking to someone, she missed human company. She missed the people she loved. She missed Luther, Vanya, Klaus, Diego. Ben. She missed mom and Pogo. 

Ray. _Claire_. 

She was missing something _vital._

She didn’t belong here. This was no home. 

* * *

Luther sat down in his bed, looking down at his rough, large hands. How did he end up back here? Back in this big, lonely house? 

Dad was gone now, sure. But so were his siblings. 

They were all gone. Again. 

Mom and Pogo were there for him if he ever wanted to talk, but they didn’t fill the huge and empty void inside his chest. 

Allison did. Last night, just him and her, watching the fire and drinking wine and talking about life and the future and the past, as well as the events of the evening before (including all of them playing Monopoly, then Uno, emptying dad’s expensive liquor cabinet, bickering with Diego, Allison taking so many pictures he lost count) was exactly what he’d needed to fill that void. 

His family. His fucked-up, dysfunctional, hard-headed, impossible family. 

There was nothing in this whole world Luther wouldn’t do for them. 

He leaned back, sighing as he looked out the window. He hated being alone. 

_Hated_ it. 

Luther was used to it, sure, but there were some things a man shouldn’t get used to. He _wanted_ his family in his life. 

He calmed himself down knowing that his siblings wouldn’t be gone forever. Allison promised him that once she got visitation rights, she’d bring Luther to meet Claire. 

He couldn’t wait. 

Sighing, Luther got back up and headed towards the kitchen. He needed some comfort food, since there was nothing else to fill the void. A gallon of ice cream should do the trick. 

Walking down the corridor, he found himself stopping in front of one of the doors. He got a strange feeling.

What room even was this? Luther found the handle to be dusty from being so unused.

This wasn't normal. He knew every single room in this house, so how was it possible he'd forgotten about this one? Hesitantly, Luther put his hand on the handle and turned.

Nothing happened. The door seemed stuck. Luther knew he often underestimated his powers, and decided not to pry it open with force. He could just ask Pogo about it.

Luther pushed the mysterious door off to the back of his mind, and thought about ice cream again. By the time he reached the first floor, he was alerted by tires screeching in the driveway. Surprised, he walked back to the entrance hall and peered outside. 

It was Diego. He had hockey bag, seemingly very full. He was walking slowly and with a heaviness in his step - something that Luther hadn’t seen before. 

A shadow darkened the man’s face as he closed in on the front door. 

Luther opened it before he even had a chance to knock. 

“Diego?”

The man jumped, flustered. “Geez, man.”

“What are you doing here?”

Diego looked uneasy. “Al kicked me out cause I wasn’t doing my job. Saving the world wasn’t a good enough reason, apparently.”

Luther swallowed, and let him in. 

Diego headed straight to the living room, sitting down to the couch with a heavy sigh. 

“Why so glum?” asked Luther. 

The vigilante glanced over his shoulder. “I didn’t want to come back here. There’s too much _dad_ here.”

“He’s dead.”

Diego hummed absent-mindedly. “Yeah. Guess that just hasn’t registered yet.”

“You know, this place could use some redecoration”, Luther admitted, sitting down next to him. “It’s all a bit _old_ , don’t you think?”

Diego snorted. “Redecoration?”

“Yeah. You said there’s too much dad here. He’s dead now, isn’t he?” Luther shrugged. “Let’s make this place look like… well, us. Allison would love to give this place a little bit of life.”

It made him happy to see a smile widen across his brother’s face. “I’ve gotta admit, that empty space above the mantelpiece is really bothering me. It could use a painting or something.”

Luther agreed with him. “Yeah, but nothing lame, though.”

“Allison took some really nice pictures last night”, Diego thought aloud. “Maybe we’ll have one of them framed.”

“That’s a really good idea.”

Luther and Diego both jumped in surprise, turning around to see Allison herself, standing in the doorway, looking like a lost puppy. 

She bit her lip. 

“Hey”, Luther’s voice was rough, and her stomach did that fluttering thing it always did when Allison was made an entrance. There was just something captivating about her. 

“What are you doing here?” asked Diego, but his tone was only curious, not accusatory. 

“I couldn’t stay in that penthouse”, Allison sighed, putting down her overnight bag. “It reminds me of a life I left behind. Of someone that's not really me anymore.”

“Well, this will always be home to all of us”, Luther said quietly, touching her shoulder gently as she sat down next to them. “Stay as long as you want.”

She leaned back between them, and after years of studying her face, Luther knew that there was something eating at her. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. 

“I visited Ray’s grave”, she replied. “He lived a good life. A happy life. Had four kids.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Diego hesitantly stated.

Allison hummed positively in response. “Yeah. Makes me wonder why none of us can have that. Why all of our lives are such a shitshow.”

That silenced them all for a while. 

She wasn’t wrong, not really. 

“It could be worse”, Luther stated, taking her hand in his and squeezing it gently. “At least we’ve got each other again, right?”

Allison looked at him, and there was a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. I suppose we do.”

“Hello?” 

A voice called from the entrance hall. They turned around to see Klaus walk further in.

“We’re here”, Allison called out. “Do come join us.”

Before Klaus even made it inside the living room, the door opened again. Klaus glanced over his shoulder to see Vanya walk in, carrying her violin case. Surprise plastered over her face as she saw them all. 

“Oh”, she only said. 

Luther leaned back on the couch, coming to a silly realization. These people, these _amazing_ and broken people, his family, were just as lost as he was.

And it looked like he wasn’t as alone as he thought he was.

Klaus and Vanya walked into the living room. The thin man took off his stetson and threw it on the bar counter. 

“Didn’t there used to be a painting there?” he frowned at the empty space above the mantelpiece. 

“Nah, I’m pretty sure it was always empty”, stated Luther. “But we had the idea that we could maybe put up a family photo. A proper one. One of the pictures Allison took last night.”

“Make this place a home?” Vanya proposed with a small, but hopeful voice. 

“Exactly”, he replied. 

Allison pulled out her phone with a smirk. She opened her gallery, and everyone leaned over to look at the photos she’d taken. 

They were _beautiful._ They were laughing, they were happy, they looked like…

Like a family. Like proper siblings. 

“Ugh, why do all the best ones have this weird, empty space?” Allison groaned. “Look at that. It’d be perfect. Why are you holding your arm like that, Klaus?”

“Looks ridiculous”, Diego admitted. 

“Screw you, knifeboy”, Klaus sounded offended. “Go back. See, you’re doing it too.”

The vigilante leaned in closer, and sure enough - it looked as if he was having an arm on top of something invisible.

“Geez, how drunk were we last night?” he frowned. 

Luther couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling he got from these pictures. There were too many empty spaces in these pictures for them to be a coincidence. 

They were surprised when Pogo showed up to the entrance. The butler seemed equally surprised to see them all there. 

“Oh”, the tight, old expression on his face changed to a smile. “You’re all here.”

“Is that okay?” asked Vanya carefully. 

“As I said earlier, Miss Vanya”, Pogo told her, “This is your home.”

He then tightened his grip on his walking stick. “But I must ask - did one of you do something about the surveillance tapes your father had? I checked the cabinet today, and…”

Pogo’s eyes darkened. “The tapes… they’re all destroyed. Burnt. Melted from the inside.”

“How’s that possible?” Allison got up slowly. “We didn’t do that, Pogo, I swear.”

“I believe you”, the butler calmed her. “But… someone did. And I’m worried.”

They were about to start brainstorming, when a loud, crackling sound filled the room. A bright blue light flashed in the middle of the room, sending them all reeling back in alert. A heavy smell of electricity filled the air.

When the light faded, a short, plump man in a trench coat was left standing in the middle. He was carrying two suitcases, one of them identical to the one currently hidden inside dad’s safe. 

“Herb?” Diego coughed, staring in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

The man looked _exhausted;_ dark bags hung under his eyes, his eyelids drooped, and his breathing sounded heavy and labored.

“What the fudge”, Herb’s voice wavered. “Did you _do_?”


	3. Not With a Bang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must say, this fic is working out much better than I thought. When I started writing, I only had a vague idea. I'm pretty much making it up as I go, but I do have clearer picture in mind now. Thanks for the support, your tears fuel my engine ;)  
> Also, thank you to @meenbee for being absolutely golden in the comment section <3

Herb had promptly passed out exactly twelve seconds after his arrival, dropping both of his briefcases to the floor. 

Grace had been kind enough to prepare him a bed, and tended to him while Diego and his siblings tried to figure out what the hell was going on. 

“Maybe we should look into his case”, Allison nodded towards the brown leather briefcase next to the bulky black one. “There could be clues.”

“She’s right”, agreed Luther. “He wouldn’t just beam into our living room, looking like hell, if he didn’t have a very good reason for being here.”

“Fine”, Diego snapped. “Let’s look inside.”

Klaus grabbed the case and brought it to the bar counter. Diego was reluctant to look through the man’s stuff, but this was a matter of great importance, obviously. They weren’t doing this lightheartedly. 

The ex-junkie’s long fingers worked the case open in seconds. It revealed what appeared to be a collection of files and reports with the Commission logo decorating each one. 

Frowning, Diego grabbed the first one and began to flip through the pages. 

“This is a… paradox report?” he raised his brows in question. “Uh, classified _Disastrous_.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound good”, Vanya retorted, grabbing a file on her own. “This one says _disastrous_ too.”

“Okay, well”, Allison cleared her throat, hopping to sit on a bar stool. “We can draw some conclusions from here. There are a lot of disastrous paradoxes happening, and Herb thinks it’s our fault.”

She threw her arm theatrically in the air, pursing her lips in displeasure. 

“Huh”, Diego hummed, closing the file. “Why would he think it’s our fault?”

“Uhh”, Luther raised his brows. “Seriously? Did you even _see_ what we did in the 60’s?”

Vanya nodded along with him. “Stalked Lee Harvey Oswald”, she stated, eyes hovering over to Diego, who made a rude face at her. She ignored him, turning a pointing thumb towards Luther. “Worked for Jack Ruby as a pit fighter.”

Vanya turned her attention to Allison. “Civil rights activist.” She then frowned at Klaus. “Cult leader.” 

“It’s _Prophet_ to you, mortal”, Klaus tried to sound offended.

Diego sighed deeply, resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and hopped on his feet. “I’m going to bed. We aren’t getting any answers before Herb wakes up.”

Luther joined him. “He’s right. We should all get some rest, and I’m sure the man will tell us his business once he’s had a good night’s sleep.”

Allison ignored them, still immersed in reading a particularly thick report. “You guys go, I’ll stay here for a little while more.”

* * *

Vanya dreamed the world was empty. 

Everywhere she looked there was fire and destruction. Flakes of ash were flowing through the hot wind, akin to snow falling down during cold December nights. 

With every inhale, Vanya breathed in more ash. The toxic air burned in her lungs, stabbing her insides like daggers. 

She didn’t want to be here. What was this place?

The wind was mauling a newspaper. Vanya blinked rapidly, running after it with a profound feeling; like that paper was going to offer her all the answers to the mysteries of the world.

She had to catch that newspaper. So she ran. 

Vanya’s fingers wrapped around the thin paper, grabbing it like a lifeline. The ash stung her eyes, and from behind the veil of water covering her eyes, she looked at the front page. 

It was incomprehensible gibberish. She didn’t understand. 

Dread grasped at Vanya’s chest, and she flipped the page over to the next one.

The letters were running down the page like drops of water down a car window, words dissolving into nothing. 

A choked sob escaped her mouth, as she flipped the page. 

Her heart jumped at the sight. 

She could read page five. It was full of scribbling, on such a small font she had to wipe her eyes and squint to read it. 

It was saying one word all over again.

_Remember. Remember. Remember. Remember. Remember._

_Remember. Remember. Remember. Remember. Remember._

_Remember. Remember. Remember. Remember. Remember._

_Remember. Remember. Remember. Remember. Remember._

_Remember. Remember. Remember. Remember. Remember._

Vanya woke up with a gasp, her tongue feeling heavy and dry in her mouth. 

She was breathing fresh air, not ash. She was…

… not in her bed.

Vanya’s heart sank, as she realized the fact. Where was she? 

_I’ve been sleepwalking again, haven’t I?_

Sniffling, she fumbled around in the darkness for walls. Her eyes got used to the blackness eventually, and she began making out shapes around her. 

A table. A corner. A… telephone hanging out of the wall. 

Vanya heard the steady, flat beep from the ringer. 

_What am I doing here?_

She sniffled again, wiping her face to her sleeve, and getting her shaky knees to work. 

Vanya stood up, and fumbled for a light switch. 

She flipped it. Nothing happened. The light bulb probably needed switching. 

Vanya’s eyes flickered over to the northwest corner. 

_Remember._

Something had happened here. In this room. Something terrible. 

But she just couldn’t figure out what.

Sighing, Vanya opened the door and walked out into the dimly lit corridor. Her legs felt like iron as she walked downstairs, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.

What was that dream? The world had looked like it had gone through complete annihilation.

_Apocalypse_. 

Vanya swallowed. The last thing she needed right now was to cause another doomsday, and she _really_ hoped that dream wasn't some sort of an omen or a sign.

Was her brain trying to subconsciously tell her to remember what she'd once caused? To remember not to lose control, or the world would be destroyed all over again?

There was someone else in the kitchen - the yellow light flooded into the hallway, and she frowned. Who else would be awake this late?

Allison sat at the table with a messy hair and a half full cup of coffee, twirling a lock of her black hair while her eyes raked over the report. 

“Allison?” Vanya croaked, making the woman flinch violently. 

“Jesus”, her sister exhaled. 

“What are you still doing up?” asked Vanya, walking further in. She really needed that glass of water - her throat felt so parched that she might as well have actually inhaled smoke and ash. 

“Just looking at these files”, Allison sighed, shaking her head slightly. “This is… weird stuff. There’s reports of paradoxes in _hundreds_ of different points in time. This one’s dated 15th of April, 1912.”

Vanya raised her brows. “I’m not a history buff.”

“The night the Titanic sank”, clarified Allison. “And this one?” She pulled up another file, flipping to the first page. “26th of April, 1986. The Chernobyl incident.”

She leaned back, rubbing her eyes. Vanya poured the entire glass of water down her throat in one go, the cool liquid calming down her aching throat. 

“Disasters?” she guessed. 

Allison shrugged. “Just… important dates, that’s all. Some were less significant, and I had to do some googling to figure out what happened, but… _something_ always went down on these dates.”

“Yeah, so?” Vanya sat down, confused as to why Allison was so invested in this. “Herb works for a company that looks after the timeline. These are probably important events that the Commission is watching over.”

“Exactly”, Allison persisted. “But these are all _warnings._ See?”

She tapped on the red stamp that said _disastrous._

“They’re not classified _disastrous_ because of what happened during those dates”, Allison’s tired eyes gleamed. “These are all paradox warnings. _Disastrous_ is the classification they’ve given for the severity of the paradox.”

A shiver ran down Vanya’s spine, and for a moment her breath got stuck in her throat. It took a moment for her to find her voice. “You’re sure?”

“Pretty sure”, Allison shrugged. “That’s what Herb is here for. He thinks we’ve somehow… caused it.”

“He thinks we, what, _broke_ time?” Vanya scoffed. “Like we’re some sort of time terrorists?” 

Allison snorted, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know. He’ll have to tell us himself.”

She then leaned her chin against her palm, eyes suddenly turning curious. “What are _you_ doing up?” 

Vanya swallowed, looking down at her lap. She took another sip of water. 

“Did you sleepwalk again?” her sister asked softly.

She didn’t answer, but looked out the window instead. It was still dark outside, but this city never really slept. Faraway lights were blinking, cars were driving past, people were walking past, huddled together under shared umbrellas. 

It was raining. 

“You ever get this feeling…” Vanya began slowly, “that you were supposed to do something, but you can't remember what?”

* * *

Luther woke up with a pounding ache inside his skull. He groaned, and sat up in his bed, rubbing his aching eyes. 

If it was up to him, he’d snooze in bed until noon, but the stress and sense of both duty and urgency prompted him to get up and get dressed.

Herb’s appearance had put them all on edge, and Luther was _this_ close to marching into the guest room and shaking that puny little man awake. 

They needed answers. 

Mumbling grumpily he marched down the hallway towards the staircase, but he stopped halfway there. 

He got a feeling. 

Like he’d forgotten something.

Did he brush his teeth last night? Did he forget to change underwear? 

Did he forget to say good night to Allison?

Luther sighed, rubbing his face in frustration. This wasn’t helping his headache. Perhaps breakfast would straighten things out in his head. 

He marched down the corridor, and turned around the corner.

Immediately his eyes locked on the wall on the opposite of Ben's room.

 _Wait a minute_.

Something was wrong here, he thought, a deep frown plastering over his face. 

There had been a door here, Luther remembered. He was sure of it. It’d been dusty, unused, and he’d been confused because he didn’t remember it even existing. 

Now there was nothing but old wallpaper. Luther swallowed, the pounding in his head increasing by a metric ton. 

This didn’t make any sense. 

Carefully, Luther brought his hand up to the wall, slowly sliding his fingers across the worn wall. 

It wasn’t recently renewed, this wallpaper had been here forever. 

Was there ever a door in the first place?

Luther shook his head, confused. Of course there had been a door. He wasn’t crazy, right?

Blinking slowly, he found a crack in the wallpaper. His hand was moving, a strange sensation urging him to rip it off. 

His fingers grabbed the edge, and slowly began peeling it off. 

“ _Master Luther_ !” a shocked, aghast voice called out from the staircase. “ _What_ are you doing?” 

Flipping around in panic, Luther’s eyes landed on Pogo’s figure, limping up the stairs. He was looking at the dog-eared wallpaper with his mouth open, muttering something that sounded like ‘ _unbelievable_ ’. 

Pogo’s fingers ran over the rip, trying to straighten it out. 

“I’m sorry”, Luther said quietly, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what got into me.”

* * *

Klaus kicked at the stone on the pavement as he slowly wobbled his way towards the vet bar. It was a mile walk, and he didn’t feel like taking anyone with him. 

No, this was something he had to do alone. 

Klaus took a deep inhale from his cigarette, shivering with the damp wind on his face. The smell of rain was in the air. 

The closer he got to the bar, the slower his pace became. He almost didn’t want to go inside. 

What if Dave’s picture was still on the wall?

What if it _wasn’t_? 

Klaus didn’t know which one was worse. 

He decided to stop for another smoke, and sat down next to some high-end clothing shop. His leg was shaking up and down - a thing he often did when he was nervous or anxious about anything. 

Klaus’ eyes landed on a mannequin posing to the passing people on the street. It was dressed in a pompous, laced shirt, which he knew would look absolutely _breathtaking_ on him. 

But that wasn’t what caught his attention. 

It was the mannequin. There was something about it he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. It was like meeting a person at a party, and recognizing their face, but not quite being able to place them. Or trying to remember a certain word, and having it right on the tip of one’s tongue. 

But it was just a mannequin, and nothing special. Klaus hummed thoughtfully. A lot of weird stuff was going on lately. He shrugged to himself, and searched his playlist for a new song. 

_The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance._

Of course. His finger hovered over the play button for a few seconds, a strange, twisting feeling in his gut. 

Klaus pressed the button. 

He could do this. 

His voice was shaky as he hummed along the tune, mumbling the lyrics half-heartedly. 

_Oh, Dave._

What was he supposed to do? _What_? How was it that in three years his sorrow, his grief and pain were still as fresh as if he’d died yesterday?

Klaus felt lost. 

* * *

Diego was sharpening his favorite knife with angry, violent strokes. He was anxious. Impatient. He knew there was something very wrong - everything looked and seemed okay on the outside, but he _knew._ Below the surface, something was off. 

He was alerted by the distinctive panting and fast-paced trotting coming from the hallway. Diego turned to face the doorway to the living room to see Herb (finally) show up with his shirt haphazardly buttoned, face root-red, and glasses slightly uneven on his nose. 

Herb was looking around like a frightened animal, mumbling something incomprehensible, pacing erratically. 

“Finally”, Diego threw his arms up. Allison woke up from her nap with a yelp, almost falling off the couch. 

“How long was I out?” Herb asked, not even bothering to hide the distress in his voice. 

Diego glanced at the wall clock. “Fourteen hours, give or take.”

“Fourteen…” Herb mouthed, his voice turning inaudible as he clenched his teeth. “We need to hurry. There isn’t a lot of time.”

“Please, do enlighten us about what it is you think we did”, Diego raised his chin and crossed his arms. He didn’t appreciate empty accusations. 

“I need all of you”, Herb looked around. “Where are the others?”

“Klaus went out half an hour ago”, Allison yawned. “Vanya’s upstairs. She was practicing a while ago, but I haven’t heard from her in a while. And Luther’s in the kitchen.”

“Isn’t there one more?” the small man frowned, counting his fingers and mumbling softly. 

“You mean Ben?” Diego raised his brows. “He’s dead.”

“Oh”, Herb dropped his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll call Klaus”, Allison volunteered. “Go get Vanya and Luther.”

“Sure”, shrugged Diego. “Come on, Herbie.”

* * *

Klaus stared at the photo. There he was, looking young and slightly terrified, and next to him was… _not_ Dave. 

It was a soldier he recognized to be Hernandez. But not Dave. 

Could it be… that he’d listened? That he’d decided not to go?  
Klaus swallowed with effort, tracing the edges of the frame with his finger. A smile suddenly climbed to his face. 

That’s it. He’d done it, right? He’d… he’d saved Dave. 

It meant that their relationship, their love story never happened. It meant that he spent those ten months without him. It meant they didn’t meet in Vietnam. 

That couldn’t be right, Klaus thought. He remembered it, so it happened. 

But Dave wouldn’t. He’d stolen that from him.

Klaus decided it was still definitely worth it. So what Dave wouldn’t be able to remember it? At least he’d be alive. 

At least he _lived_.

Right?

Klaus was startled from his thoughts by a sacrilegiously loud _I Knew You Were Trouble When You Walked In_ , the ringtone blasting into his ear through the headphones. 

Cursing under his breath, he quickly hit the green button as he saw Allison’s name. 

“Hey”, Klaus said softly, bringing the phone up to his ear and prayed that his voice wouldn’t tremble. 

“ _We need you back at the Academy_ ”, his sister stated. “ _Herb woke up_.”

* * *

“Start talking, Herb”, Diego urged, sitting down and crossing his arms. 

All the eyes suddenly glued to the Commission’s acting chairman, currently pacing around the living room. He glanced at them nervously, muttering something to himself. 

“Herb?” Luther questioned, impatience leaking to his tone. 

Diego had to agree with the sentiment. 

Herb finally sat down, and nervously crossed his fingers. “I’ve spent the past two weeks organizing damage control”, he began. “As soon as you departed 1963, there was an… _incident_ at the Commission HQ.”

“Incident?” repeated Diego, placing his legs on the table. 

“All our Infinity Switchboards exploded”, stated Herb matter-of-factly. “ _Melted_ , to be precise. There was no sabotage, they just overheated.”

“How’s that possible?” Diego sat down, remembering the huge and complicated machinery the Commission used to monitor the timeline. 

Herb gave him a quick nod. “All that we have right now are theories, but…”

Klaus sighed in deep. “Is it another apocalypse? I’m so tired of saving the world.”

“End of time itself”, Herb muttered grimly. “The timeline’s collapsing.”

Diego tried to keep his head from spinning, as he listened to the Commission’s chairperson. This had to be some sort of a joke. Two apocalypses he could handle. But a third? 

“Does it have something to do with our time travel?” Allison asked. 

“Well, the year 1963 was _littered_ with a paradox knot unlike anything I’ve ever seen”, Herb shrugged. “Let me explain what’s happening here.”

He leaned forwards, and accepted the drink Klaus offered him, downing the glass of whiskey with one swig. 

“Thank you. So”, he crossed his fingers. “The world is ending. All at once. All across history, apocalypses are taking place. In _hundreds_ of different points of time.”

Diego’s heart definitely missed a few beats. “Um”, his voice sounded small, rough. “What do you mean… all at once?”

Herb leaned back in his chair, looking older than ever before. “The Commission’s purpose has always been to create support pillars for the timeline”, he started slowly, gazing off into the distance. “Send an agent to a location, do a thing that will help maintain the necessary events that are supposed to take place. Time is a delicate thing, and it _needs_ maintenance.”

He shook his head. “Do you realize how many people have time-travelled to 1963 about to stop the JFK assassination? Because I can tell you, Diego, you sure weren’t the first one.”

Diego swallowed, but said nothing. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach which made him feel like if he opened his mouth at all, he’d puke. 

Herb continued with a heavy tone. “The pillars we’ve created are the only thing keeping the correct timeline together. These pillars are created solely by the work of our field agents."

At this point the man began to rub his temples and closed his eyes, clearly harboring a headache so massive that even talking seemed overwhelming. Herb sighed. 

“But time can also defend itself”, he said quietly. “The Commission tries to avoid sending too many people to a single point in time, to avoid the possibilities of paradoxes and butterfly effects. There’s this thing we call the Recall Effect, that whenever a certain point in time becomes too overburdened, the timeline will fix itself by cleansing the anomaly - time travellers, in this case, from that point in time.”

He took a sip of his coffee, licking his lips thoughtfully. “However, what we suspect is causing this rupture is that a person or several have been somehow erased from existence altogether. From every instance of time, from every point they’ve ever existed in.”

“That doesn’t make sense”, Allison announced. “If time’s defense mechanism is purging time travellers from an overwhelmed point, then wouldn’t it cause even greater damage? I mean, _erasing_ people - really?”

“That’s just it”, Herb told her. “It’s not supposed to happen. Something’s gone wrong, and we can’t seem to figure out how it happened. _Someone_ sabotaged the timeline, either unintentionally or on purpose, and in response, time’s natural mechanism is now the very thing that’s tearing it apart.”

“This is going way over my head”, Diego admitted. Luther agreed.

“So, Commission agents are being erased off of the timeline?” Vanya confirmed, rubbing her forehead. “Essentially so that they never existed in the first place?”

“Exactly”, Herb nodded. “Normally, the Recall Effect simply returns the traveller to their rightful state of existence. To the timeline they belong in.” He grimaced. “Spits them out of the wrong one, if you may.”

“And this is caused by too many paradoxes stacking on top of each other, correct?” Klaus was pinching his nose. 

“Yes”, Herb confirmed. “Time travel is _unnatural._ It’s not supposed to occur at all, but it’s a necessary evil. Not all time travellers respect the laws of time as much as the Commission.”

“So why can’t the timeline just straighten itself out this time?” questioned Luther. “Why is it collapsing?”

“Remember the support pillars?” Herb raised his brows. “Commission agents _are_ the pillars. Now, what happens when the pillars stop existing?”

“Everything falls apart”, Vanya breathed in realization. “I get it now. Sort of.”

“What does that even mean?” Klaus pursed his lips. “Like, in practice?”

“It means that aborted timelines are overlapping with the correct one”, Herb shrugged, his expression turning dark again. “It means that apocalyptic events are occurring all across the timeline, caused by the anomalies. It means people that _should_ exist, don't. Different points of time merge together and overlap.”

“If that’s true, then how are we still here?” asked Diego quietly. “If the world’s ending in the past, how are we here?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing the past few weeks?” Herb asked tiredly. “See this?” 

The man leaned to pat the black briefcase, identical to the one they’d used to travel back to their correct time. 

“This”, said Herb, “is an executive briefcase. It’s equipped with features that our field agents don’t get to have.”

“Which are?” Allison raised her brows. 

“Stopping time, for example”, shrugged Herb. “Not many of such cases have been manufactured, since making them is extremely expensive. However, they have proven very useful in trying to contain the situation. We’ve sent agents to collapsing points, and frozen the time there. This works, essentially, as a floodgate.”

“No shit”, Diego huffed. “Herbie, that’s _genius_.”

“Thank you”, a quick smile crossed his face. “However, this isn’t a solution. This is just buying us the time to solve the problem.”

It was terrifying, really, when Diego thought about it. 

Sure, they’d stopped apocalypses before, but… this was different. 

“You can’t just erase people”, Vanya said suddenly. “I mean, people leave marks behind. Footprints. Breadcrumbs.”

“Indeed”, Herb said softly. “The Commission agents who have been erased from the timeline have also, logically, been erased from our memories.”

“So wait”, Diego leaned forwards, taking his legs off the table. “This whole thing is just _theory_? You don’t actually know if that’s what’s really happening?”

Herb seemed dissatisfied with his question. “It’s the only logical assumption. We have huge gaps in our memories. You should have ones too. Empty spaces that should have people filling them.”

“I have been having some weird dreams lately”, Vanya admitted. “And I keep having this feeling that I’ve forgotten something very important.”

“It’s tragic, really”, Herb nodded gently. “You could’ve lost a partner. A loved one. A parental figure. A friend. And you would never know.”

* * *

“So, where do we start?” questioned Luther. The best thing he could do for his siblings was try and be an exemplary leader, and guide them forwards. 

Stopping the apocalypse was what they did best - except this was the first time it wasn’t caused by their sister. 

Herb took in a deep breath. “The only way we can fix this is by finding out _who_ or _what_ caused the anomaly to occur in the first place.”

“How are we supposed to find that out, if we’ve forgotten the person who caused it ever even existed?” asked Klaus, and Luther had to admit he had a good point there.

“Well”, sighed Herb, “then we better find a way to remember.”


	4. Familia Ante Omnia

_Family Over All.  
_

* * *

“I must warn you”, Herb said quietly. “We may not be able to access these memories, no matter how hard we try. These people have been erased from existence completely.”

“We should start by recapping our stories”, Allison decided. “I mean, we didn’t get involved with the Commission until the first time we tried stopping the Apocalypse.”

“Hazel and Cha-Cha”, nodded Diego. 

“Yeah. So if we just recount the events that took place, we should be able to find some holes in the story”, she continued, encouraged. “We can start filling in the gaps.”

“That’s a good idea”, Herb nodded, pulling out a small notebook and a pen. 

“Alright”, Luther sighed. “We were all summoned here because our dad died, correct?”

He was given small, affirmative nods.

“We had a funeral. Me and Diego had a scuffle.”

Diego shrugged. “Your fault.”

Luther narrowed his eyes, but bit his tongue and decided to ignore the quip. A good leader needed patience and a good temper. Something he’d have to work on. 

“There was a shootout at Griddy’s”, Diego suddenly shot up from his chair. “A bunch of dead guys on Commission payroll. But what were they doing there?”

Silence fell. 

“They must have chased _someone_ in there”, Luther frowned. “They all died. Somebody killed them all.”

But who? He had a feeling like he should know.

“Very good”, Herb said breathily, writing it down to his notebook. “We have our first gap in the story.”

It visibly disturbed everyone in the room. Luther hated the thought that his memories had been tampered with like this. Hated the fact that no matter how much he racked his brain, there was an empty space he couldn’t fill. 

Klaus cleared his throat. “Um, I went to this place to ask around about a glass eye. I was supposed to track down its owner, because it was supposed to be vital to stopping the apocalypse. Turned out it hadn't even been manufactured yet, so...”

“Supposed to be?” Luther muttered to himself. "It came from the future, I was squeezing it in my dead hand, but I'm not exactly sure how I know that."

He raised his head. "How did we even get that eye?"

A grim feeling settled atop his chest as he realized that no one had an answer to him. 

“Do we still have it?” asked Vanya carefully, but Klaus shook his head. 

“I’m pretty sure it broke. I don’t remember how, though.”

Herb was scribbling like a maniac, and Diego leaned curiously closer to read over his shoulder. 

“Are we thinking we got the eye from a person who was erased?” pondered Allison. "A Commission agent?"

“My head hurts”, announced Klaus. 

“That’s normal”, Herb told him tiredly. “Your brain is protesting the fact that you’re trying to think about something that’s essentially impossible to think about.”

“Okay, okay”, Diego waved her hand around impatiently. “So, that would mean that we got in contact with a Commission agent, and what… forged an alliance or something?”

Luther sniffled. “Seems unlikely. No offense, Herb.”

“None taken”, he assured. “But I must disagree. From where I’m standing, it looks like a very logical conclusion. Unless you acquired the eye from our agent by accident.”

“Why would a Commission agent have the eye in the first place?” Vanya joined the conversation after being silent and thoughtful for a long time. “I mean, you guys used to be very pro-apocalypse, right? The eye was a clue to stopping it.”

“That’s a good point”, hummed Allison, turning towards Herb. “Is it possible that this agent was a turncoat?”

“Would make sense to me”, stated Luther. “I don’t see why anyone would want the world to end.”

Herb looked thoughtful. “That’s possible, yes. Perhaps you’re right.”

“So one of our erased people is a rogue agent”, nodded Allison. “Great.”

“And next, I started investigating the shootout with…” Diego’s eyes dimmed a little. “Patch.” He cleared his throat. 

“I met Leonard”, Vanya added, her tone cold. “I’m sorry, _Harold_.”

“That guy was a bitch”, Klaus hummed in agreement. 

“What about the shootout at Gimbel Brothers?” questioned Diego suddenly. “That was Hazel and Cha-Cha.”

“Must’ve been the rogue agent again”, murmured Herb, scribbling it down. “They were a busy bee, whoever they were.”

“Could it be that this agent was the one who warned us about the apocalypse in the first place?” Allison pondered, getting mostly affirmative mumbles in response. 

“That’s very likely”, admitted Herb. “Hazel and Cha-Cha’s assignments have been wiped clean by the anomalies. As were a thousand other reports from our database.”

“So why did Hazel and Cha-Cha come _here_ ?” asked Luther, causing them all to fall silent. "To the Academy?"

“Maybe they thought we were guilty by association?” suggested Vanya. 

“The Commission never operates that way”, Herb intervened. “They must’ve thought that the rogue agent was here. Which is very likely, since it appears you were working together.”

“Well, they didn’t find them so they took me instead”, Klaus announced, reminiscing on the time he’d been kidnapped by the two assassins. “They tortured me. I don’t even remember what they wanted.”

It made Luther’s skin crawl to think that this happened to their brother, and no one had even noticed. Klaus did have a tendency of disappearing for days on end, but that did not excuse the fact that they'd all failed him. Luther should’ve paid more attention. He should’ve known something was wrong. 

He had sworn he’d never let anyone in this family down like that again. 

“Your lady friend”, Klaus glanced at Diego, “came to my rescue. I crawled out through the vents. Took Hazel and Cha-Cha’s briefcase.”

He got a blank look in his green eyes, gazing off to the distance. Luther knew he was plagued by the ghosts of his past, more so than the rest of them, and he’d often forgotten that. 

“It took me to the Vietnam war, where I met Dave. Ten months later, I travelled back here”, Klaus shrugged, his voice more disengaged than usual. “I destroyed the case, and... well, home sweet home.”

“Yeah, after that me and him went on a little revenge trip to try and get the jump on Hazel and Cha-Cha”, nodded Diego. His eyes were still locked on Klaus, but there was a soft look in them. 

“Hold on”, Luther murmured. “That’s why you two ruined our meetup with Hazel and Cha-Cha.”

“Our?” repeated Allison. 

“Yeah, I was with somebody”, he stated. “Must’ve been the agent we forgot.”

“I’m confused”, Klaus suddenly announced, wailing his hands around. “All we have is this rogue agent character, but didn’t you say there were multiple Commission people erased from the timeline?”

“That’s correct”, Herb pushed his glasses further up his nose. “The anomalies are too severe to be caused by just one agent.”

He cleared his throat to look back at Luther. “Why did you arrange the meet?”

Luther sighed, leaning back on his seat. “I, uh. I’m not sure.”

“You don’t remember anything at all?”

Suddenly, a flash of pain so violent and unexpected that he almost puked on the spot shot right through Luther’s head. It felt like a bullet travelling through his brain. A surprised groan escaped his lips, and in a frenzied panic he realized his vision was dimming. 

Someone was touching his shoulder. Allison’s voice was shouting something, but it sounded like it was coming from underwater. Or from the bottom of a well. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay”, Luther finally snarled, pushing away the hovering hands. 

“What the hell was that?” Diego panted, eyes wide with adrenaline.

Herb swallowed nervously. “I believe you might start to suffer the effects of the paradox.”

“Feel free to elaborate on that", Vanya raised her chin, sounding more demanding than usual.

“I've been suffering from its influence ever since this nightmare began", Herb admitted. "Your brain can’t handle the stress. It’s understandable. In the worst case, it may lead up to a cerebral hemorrhage.

Luther’s blood ran cold. The pain was gone as soon at it had begun - surely it wouldn’t be that serious. 

“However, we can draw a conclusion from this”, Herb announced, trying to avert their focus away from the fact that they may _die_ from investigating this any further. “Someone else who was erased was there. Your little episode proves that.”

“Wait, that’s progress”, nodded Klaus, trying to sound light-hearted. 

Herb sighed. “We’d already suspected that one of our executives was also erased. Too many completed reports that should’ve been signed off had the signature wiped off.” 

“You’re thinking that the rogue agent arranged the meet to get in contact with an executive?” questioned Allison silently. “An executive that was also erased?”

“That’s precisely what I’m thinking”, Herb nodded a few times with more excitement, his pen waving aggressively as he wrote down their findings. “This is good. Let’s continue.”

“Hold on”, Diego snarled. “You want us to continue, even though it could lead to a… a…” he pointed at Luther, but seemed to have forgotten the word. 

“A cerebral hemorrhage?” Vanya filled in for him, and Diego nodded furiously. 

“In the _worst case_ ”, Herb said in a hurry. “Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen. But I should warn you about potential episodes. Headaches of the highest caliber.”

“You’re sure?” Diego took a step closer, sounding slightly threatening. Herb swallowed. 

“I’m sure.”

“The rogue agent must’ve brought us the information about Harold Jenkins, too”, Allison muttered. “It’s the only way.” 

“Cha-Cha had a lot of lost memories, too”, Herb muttered. “Things she didn’t remember ever getting ordered to do.”

He sighed, leaning back to rub his eyes. “The amount of paradoxes is insane.”

Diego leaned over to bump his shoulder. “C’mon, Herbie. We’ll figure this out. We’ve already got a rogue agent and an executive that we _know_ should exist. Are there more?”

“Probably at least three”, Herb admitted. 

“So, we just have to identify the last one.”

Allison nodded slowly. “Me and Diego went to check Harold’s house out. Something made us leave, but I don’t remember what.” 

Looked like Diego had no clue either.

“I’ll sign that in as another question mark”, said Herb quietly. 

“I was arrested afterwards”, stated Diego. “And Allison drove up to Harold’s cabin, and…”

The room fell silent.

Vanya’s face fell down towards the floor. A familiar, long-buried surge of anger shot through Luther’s heart, but he knew it was misplaced. 

“We know what happened”, sighed Klaus. “We tried to stop Vanya from blowing up the world, but we failed. We time travelled to the 60’s to get time to fix it.”

“Whose idea was that, anyway?” scoffed Luther with a sigh. 

“We’re not asking the right questions”, Allison pointed out. “ _How_ did we time travel there?”

“We must’ve had a briefcase, right?” Diego shrugged. “The rogue must’ve had one of his own. He used that to take us, right?”

“But why did it scatter us across the timeline?” questioned Luther. “I mean, the briefcase we used to get back here worked just fine.”

“A good point”, said Herb. “It's possible that the briefcase could've malfunctioned somehow."

From there on out, they were at a loss. 

“Let’s take a break”, Luther muttered. 

No one protested.

* * *

Vanya sighed, and her legs felt heavy as she walked towards Luther’s room. It had been an hour since their agreed break, and it was time for a regroup. 

She was about five steps away from Ben's old room, about to enter the staircase next to it, when something stopped her dead in her tracks.

_What is it?_

_Why have I stopped?_

Vanya swallowed, her vision swimming threateningly. 

She had...a feeling. 

Slowly turning around to look to her right, she saw a door. It was there, in front of her eyes, clear as day.

But she was _certain_ it hadn’t been there before. 

Vanya took in a deep breath, carefully placing her hand on the doorknob. Flakes of dust smudged her palm, as she turned. 

Nothing happened. The door creaked loudly, but it wouldn’t budge. For a brief moment Vanya wondered if she should use her powers to force the damn thing open. 

There was something important behind this door. She _knew_ it. 

“Vanya?” 

She was startled by Luther’s voice calling to her. He’d come up from behind the corner, and was now staring right at her. 

Vanya blinked rapidly, turning her head back towards the mysterious door. 

Her heart sank like a sack of stones. 

_Where did it go?_

There was no door. No dusty handle. No nothing. 

There was a musty old wallpaper instead, covering the wall. One of the corners was even slightly ripped. 

“What…” Vanya mouthed, taking a few shocked steps back. 

Was she dreaming? 

Was this all some elaborate dream? 

_Am I going mad?_

She swallowed, then threw a glance at Luther, whose eyes hadn’t left her. He didn’t look confused, though - more like thoughtful. 

“Sorry, I was just…” Vanya searched for the right words. “I was just…”

“You saw it too, didn’t you?” Luther interrupted. “The door?”

Oh thank God. 

She wasn’t crazy. 

“Yes”, Vanya whispered. “But it’s gone now.”

“Weird things are happening around this house”, Luther said quietly. “I can only assume it has something to do with the timeline being corrupted.”

“But I don’t understand”, Vanya mumbled. “Why would some random door in our house be connected to disappeared Commission agents?”

“I don’t know”, Luther confessed, stepping closer. “But we’ll figure it out. Let’s go back downstairs.”

“Yeah.”

Vanya turned away from the wall and they made their way back into the hallway. They passed Allison's room, and she was surprised to see that her sister was, in fact, still inside.

She was surrounded by scattered files, her brows carved into a focused frown.

Luther had stopped, and he gave a warning knock on the open door of her room, to announce their presence. 

“We were heading back downstairs”, he said softly. Vanya couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth with the way Luther’s harsh voice softened when he was speaking to Allison. 

He cared about her so much. 

Allison lifted her head, woken from her thoughts. “Oh. Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute. You guys go on ahead.”

Luther nodded, and went on ahead, but Vanya felt curious. She stepped further in the room, sitting beside Allison’s bed. The fact that she wasn't trying to shoo her away gave her enough confidence to stay.

“What are you looking at?”

Allison had used a yellow highlighter pen to bring notice to certain sentences on the report. 

“Just things that don’t make sense, I guess”, she shrugged. “Thought that maybe they’ll prove useful when we’re trying to combine the dots.”

Vanya nodded, her eyes hovering over the woman’s notes. This one was about the Titanic incident.

She frowned. 

_… Take special notice on the five men who will be playing on deck as the ship sinks. They aren’t to be touched._

Allison had used a red pen to highlight the word ‘five’. 

“Five”, Vanya whispered, the word echoing in her mind in a way she hadn’t expected it to. That number meant something. 

She cleared her throat. “Um, Allison?”

“Hm?” her sister raised head.

“Why’d you use red to highlight this?”

Vanya tapped her finger on the paper, glancing at her questioningly. Allison frowned, opening her mouth to a crack. 

“I’m…” she began. “I’m honestly not sure. Maybe I thought the amount of musicians was important.”

Allison, however, seemed visibly disturbed by it. 

“Allison”, Vanya whispered. “In my dream, I was in the apocalypse.”

Her sister seemed to freeze, slowly putting down her pen. She was listening. 

“There was a newspaper”, Vanya continued as tears began welling in her eyes. “I tried to read it, but all the words were just mush.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you can’t read in dreams”, Allison pointed out gently. 

Vanya shook her head. “No, I… I looked through a few pages forwards, and I realized I could read page five.”

Allison frowned, her eyes hovering over to the bright, highlighted word flaunting on the paper. “Okay”, she said slowly, turning to face her. “What did it say?”

“Remember”, Vanya said quietly, and closed her eyes. She could see it in front of her, clear as day. “There were five rows of text. And on each row, there was the word _remember_ , written five times in a row.”

Allison drew in a sharp breath. “Okay. I'm seeing the pattern.”

Vanya nodded rapidly. “We all know we’ve never had a Number Five in the family. Dad left it out. Klaus thought he might’ve been superstitious. But…” she swallowed, her heart galloping like a racehorse inside her chest. “But what if he wasn’t? What if we _did_ have a Number Five?”

* * *

“It’s like a phantom limb”, Vanya admitted shakily. Allison stood right behind her as she laid her hand on the doorknob, opening the creaky thing. 

The room was dark. No one had changed the lightbulb. It wasn’t really used much for anything anymore, the light from the outside casting shadows all around the room. 

“A phantom limb?” Allison repeated softly. “What do you mean?”

“It’s common in war”, Vanya cleared her throat. “Amputees have the sensation that they have an itch they can’t scratch, or a pain that just simply couldn’t be there.”

“Okay.”

“The missing limb is so important that the brain acts as if the limb is still there”, she continued, turning to look at Allison. 

“You think our subconscious is trying to tell us what’s missing”, she stated slowly, nodding thoughtfully. 

“Maybe”, Vanya shrugged. “I mean, I could be wrong, but… what if we had another brother, who was erased just like the Commission operatives?”

“It’s not impossible, I suppose”, Allison sighed, crossing her arms. “But I don’t know, Vanya. Just the number five? It could mean anything.”

“It is a hell of a coincidence, though, don’t you think?” she raised her brows. “That we don’t have a Number Five in the family.”

“The number means something, I agree”, said Allison steadily. “But we can’t be sure what.”

“But-”

“I mean, really, a seventh sibling?” she raised her brows. “I’m pretty sure more stuff wouldn’t add up. They would’ve been a part of this all. But where do they fit in?”

Vanya glanced around the room, her eyes brushing over the furthest corner again, lingering on the phone, and then returning back on her sister’s worried face.

“Yeah”, she shrugged in defeat. “Maybe you’re right.”

* * *

  
  


Five’s eyelids slowly fluttered open. Shadows danced on the wall of the small, cramped room. He blinked to adjust to the light, slowly sitting up. 

He knew this room. This is where he… where he was erased. This is where he disappeared. Where Vanya begged him to stay, but he couldn't.

What happened after that?

Five couldn’t recall. He’d been floating through the dark, like a piece of driftwood in the middle of an ocean. 

Why was he even conscious?

That shouldn’t be possible. 

He should be… he shouldn’t even exist.

With slow, labored movements, Five got up. 

Swallowing, he stumbled towards the door. Could he leave?

The handle was cold as ice under his touch. The door wouldn’t budge. Grunting, he pushed harder.

Nothing.

Tugging at his powers, he pulled them into focus and attempted to jump to the other side. 

As his cells rearranged themselves in between the atoms, his mind froze with terror. 

There was nothing on the other side. Absolutely nothing. A void, an _abyss_ so vast his heart refused to beat for a solid two seconds. 

Panting, Five returned to the room, stumbling backwards. He fell. 

( _I can't get out.)_

Terrified, he stared at the door, expecting that terrible black matter to flood in through the crack in the door, to swallow him whole. 

But nothing happened. He sat there, hyperventilating, his breath getting stuck in his throat and closing it so that he couldn’t get enough air. 

_How do I even have air?_ he thought hysterically.

_(Why am I here?)_

This room shouldn't be here.

 _He_ shouldn't be here.

Five had always prided himself with being the rational one, in all situations. He knew what the objective was, he stayed on task, he was determined. 

But now, his mind was being torn apart. Fear, panic, confusion, they were shattering his thoughts.

He couldn’t breathe in here. He couldn't think.

He had to get out.

_(I can't get out.)_

Five’s eyes darted wildly around the cramped room, until they landed on-

_The phone. The phone he’d used to call Vanya and Klaus._

Frenzied, he hurried towards it. Five wheezed for air, his hands trembling so badly that he almost dropped the ringer.

_(Please. I can't get out.)  
_

There was nothing but static from the phone. No beeping, no nothing. A frustrated sob escaped his lips, and he slammed the phone to the wall.

He was alone in here.

He was alone, and he couldn't get out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me when I saw the story surpass 100 kudoses: *aggresively does the cha cha slide in a covid-infused delirium*
> 
> P.S. Don't worry children, next chapter will have more action.


	5. The Room that Didn't Exist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all better appreciate my update schedule. I've written a chapter every single day since I started this fic...

_Every story ever told really happened._

_Stories are where memories go,_

_when they’re forgotten._

* * *

  
  


Vanya dreamt of summer ´02. It had been exceptionally warm, and she’d kept her window open most nights. 

She dreamt she was a little girl again. She hadn’t been playing the violin for more than three years then, but she’d already known it would be her passion for a long time. 

It made her smile. Vanya put on her fluffy, soft pink slippers as she set the violin down, and stepped out of the room. She quietly made her way downstairs, hearing Grace hum softly somewhere in the next room. 

Vanya reached for a plate. She had to climb on top of the counter to reach it, but that was fine. With experienced hands she grabbed a knife, and spread peanut butter on top of the pieces of bread she’d placed on the plate. She dropped the knife to the sink, and grabbed the marshmallow jar. 

When Vanya was ready, she grabbed the plate and snuck back upstairs. Her slippers made no sound as she walked into the hallway full of closed doors. She made sure to flip on the lights in the corridor, and snuck into the room next to Luther’s. 

It was dark in there, but Vanya knew her way inside. She left the plate next to the window, and looked outside. Distant sounds of traffic reached her ears. 

She couldn’t see the stars here in the city. 

Vanya woke up with a whimper. 

She stared into the darkness. Her lungs stung with the choked gasps she let out, and scrambled out of that blasted fucking room. 

Vanya knew her dreams were trying to tell her something but she just didn’t _understand._

The suffocating feeling of loss trapped her breath inside, and she had to get out _._

_(I can’t remember what I lost.)_

This room, this room that she kept waking up in, was making her suffocate. Vanya sobbed, clawing at her chest, fingers running over the buttons of her pajamas. 

Her lungs wouldn’t expand. 

( _Five.)_

He was real. He had to be. 

Or was he?

Vanya couldn’t take this anymore. She just couldn’t. She closed the door behind her, sobs racking her small frame.

It was too much. She broke down, knees buckling, slowly sliding down to the floor. 

“I don’t know what to do”, Vanya cried, broken, her sobs stealing the air from her lungs. “Please, tell me what to do.”

Her breaths came in desperate gasps as she leaned her back against the door. 

_Please. I don’t know what to do._

* * *

_I don’t know what to do_ , Five realized, panting, leaning his head against the wall. He’d been kicking and punching everything he could find from this godforsaken room. He was lashing out because of despair and frustration and _rage_ , but he was out of fuel. 

He didn’t want to be alone again. 

This was just another empty world. He was floating somewhere in the middle of the abyss, outside reality, in the never-space. His body wasn't probably even corporeal.

Five wasn’t meant to wake up. Not in here.

This room didn't even really exist. It was just his consciousness protecting itself.

But he had. And he didn’t know what to do. 

Five let out a shuddering breath, too exhausted to be angry at the universe. Instead, he was sad. His sorrow was so deep it gnawed at his bones, at him from the inside. He leaned his back against the closed door, slowly sinking to the floor. 

Five didn’t cry often. He wasn’t the type. But now, his cheeks were wet with hot, plump tears, and they were rolling down and making tracks on his skin. 

He missed them. His family. A trembling, yearning sigh escaped his lips as he pressed his head against the door, and closed his eyes. 

Another tear rolled down. 

Five had been so close. So close to getting a second chance. 

So _close._

He’d wanted to be there for his family - to never ever leave them again. He owed them that. 

And he’d promised himself he’d never go away, no matter what.

But he had. 

But for what it was worth, his siblings wouldn’t even remember him. Five would be nothing but a story in their head, a figure in their dreams. A shadow in their memories.

But Five had been real, and he had lived, and he had existed. 

And they’d never remember him. 

Of course, little did he know that somewhere far away out of his reach, his sister was leaning on the same exact door, weeping tears made of the same salt and water, her heart beating the same rhythm as his.

  
  


* * *

Allison rubbed her eyes, thinking back on the events of the day. 

They’d gone over the rest of their stories. A lot of things didn’t make sense. 

Inconsistencies. Diego had suffered a similar episode as Luther earlier that day, and he’d gone to bed early.

Yawning, she thought that it was time to follow his example. She’d been up long enough. 

Pogo walked past her, and seemed to sense her plans. 

“Good night, miss Allison”, he said gently as he turned off the lights in the living room. 

Seeing him made gave her an idea.

How had she not thought about it before?

“Pogo”, she said, slowly turning around. “Could I maybe take a look at the surveillance footage dad left behind?”

The butler turned around, frowning. “At this hour? Sure, but…”

Allison stretched out her arm and opened her palm. Pogo sighed, and dug out his key ring. He placed it on her hand, and she squeezed it between her fingers, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’. 

“Do bring the keys back before you go to bed”, warned Pogo.

Allison darted up the staircase. She had to test Vanya’s theory, of course. 

What if they really, truly had a seventh sibling?

_Number Five?_

She’d dismissed the outlandish theory earlier, but had mentioned it passingly to the rest of the siblings. They’d been more focused in figuring out who the rest of the erased people were.

They hadn’t had any luck. Not yet. 

Allison was out of breath by the time she’d reached the door she was looking for. All of dad’s tapes, all their childhood…

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. This was their chance at proving Vanya’s theory. 

As Allison stepped inside, she was taken aback by the _stench._

It smelled like burning plastic. She crumpled her nose, and flipped the lights on. 

Her blood ran cold. 

The tape cabinet was _drenched_ in a bubbling, black liquid. It was running down the sides, pushing through the cracks. 

Catching her breath, Allison tried to open the cabinet. What she got in response was an angry flash of sparks. 

_How did this happen?_

Allison swallowed nervously, and found herself to be completely at a loss. 

She was stunned. 

Over half of the tapes had _melted._ Completely ruined. Exploded into their cases. 

Was Vanya right? Was this the result of a lost sibling, erased from existence?

Allison sat down on the chair, frozen. 

What could it mean?

* * *

Klaus stretched out his arms with a yawn. It was morning - barely eight am. He wasn’t usually the earliest of birds, so he’d been surprised to wake up first. 

Naturally, Klaus had woken Diego up, too. He needed company this morning, and seeing how antsy and grumpy Diego had been yesterday after his headache episode, Klaus thought it’d do him good to get out a little bit. 

Fresh air and all that. 

He didn’t even realize he was speaking it all out loud, until Diego smacked him in the shoulder.

“I got it already”, he grumbled. “What are we having?”

“Panda express”, Klaus declared. “I know Allison and Vanya’s favorites, but I don’t know Luther’s. You?”

“He can’t eat anything spicy”, Diego stated. “Like seriously. That man will start to sweat like crazy. I'm pretty sure even ketchup is too spicy for him.” 

“Tragic”, Klaus responded, shaking his head slowly. “We’ll figure something out for him. Plain rice?”

“Sounds good.”

“What about Herb?” Klaus gasped. He’d totally forgotten about Herb. 

Diego snorted. “His meals need to be gluten-free. He's also lactose intolerant.”

“Yikes”, grimaced Klaus. “Well, I guess we’ll get him-”

His voice died on the spot. 

Klaus stared. 

It was gone. The mannequin, from the Gimble Brother’s. It was gone. 

It had been there a few days ago, when he’d had a smoke right around the corner. It had been right there, and it had been _important._

Klaus’ jaw dropped. That mannequin was a part of this all. He knew it.

Why hadn't he realized it before?

“Klaus?” Diego’s confused voice called out to him, as he darted towards the entrance. “Wait!”

He heard his brother’s running steps right on his heels. 

Klaus was greeted by the warm smell of clean, unworn clothes. It was as pleasant as always, but he didn’t have the time to try things on. 

Not right now. 

“Where is it?” he mumbled to himself, painfully aware that Diego was staring. “Where _is_ it?”

“Klaus, if you’re high again, I swear-”

“I’m not high”, he snapped, irritated. Why did people always assume that?

He’d been clean for years. 

Klaus jogged towards the nearest clerk, eyes darting around to look for a very specific mannequin. It wasn’t here. 

“Excuse me, hello”, he said, out of breath. “I was wondering if, by any chance, you’d seen a mannequin with a white lace shirt? She also had a hat, one of those black ones with a cap, the kind that all the lesbians use-”

“Uh, I’m not sure what you’re asking, sir”, the clerk responded, taken aback. “Um, I can help you find some of these items, if you wish.”

“No, no, no”, Klaus shook his head impatiently. “The _mannequin._ Where’s the mannequin?”

He’d grabbed the clerk by his shoulders. 

“Klaus”, Diego cleared his throat, squeezing his arm.

“We did throw one away yesterday morning”, stuttered the clerk, looking slightly terrified, and Klaus could tell he was about two seconds away from calling security. 

“What?” Klaus’ eyes widened. “Why’d you throw it away?”

“We got new ones”, the clerk swallowed. “And the one we threw away had a dent in the head."

“Well then”, Klaus snarled, eyes hovering over to the man’s name tag. “ _Dan._ I’m gonna need you to find out where your trash is taken. Now.”

His Adam's apple jumped up and down. “I can do that, sir. Just a mo.” 

Klaus let his grip loosen, and the clerk moused his way out in a rush. 

Diego was staring at him. “What the fuck are you doing, Klaus?”

“It’s important”, he murmured. “I need to find it. That mannequin. It’s connected to all of this, I know.”

“You’re sure?”

Klaus took a deep breath. He had to calm down. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay, then.”

Diego crossed his arms, eyeing towards the direction where Dan had run off to. His hands dropped suddenly, and he narrowed his eyes. 

Klaus looked into the same direction, curious. “What is it?”

Diego then took a step forward. Then another. And then, the next thing Klaus knew, his brother was full on _power walking_ towards some little kid with a blue jacket, sitting around in front of a dressing room. 

Diego grabbed his shoulder, and the boy turned around in surprise. 

Klaus watched as his brother seemed to _deflate_ , immediately taking his hand off. “Sorry”, he murmured. “I thought you were someone else.”

Klaus tried to question him about it, but all he’d say was that he’d been mistaken. 

Dan returned, five minutes later. 

“Here’s the address to the landfill”, he pushed the card to Klaus’ fingers. 

“Thanks, we’ll see ourselves out”, Klaus mumbled, already running towards the doors.

* * *

“I can’t believe this is what we’re doing when the world’s ending in less than a week”, Luther sighed, as he threw another broken mattress over his shoulder. 

“You and me both”, Allison muttered. Her hair was a mess, and Luther was well aware she’d only slept a few hours. 

“Quit your whining!” Klaus’ voice nagged from somewhere close by. He was on the other side of the rubbish mountain Luther was currently disassembling. 

“This is hopeless”, Vanya muttered. “This is the biggest landfill in the whole city. How are we going to find a single mannequin?”

“Keep trying”, Diego intervened, his voice followed by the sound of something crashing loudly. Luther could make out some quiet cursing. 

“Klaus”, Luther walked towards his brother’s position. Klaus’ eyes darted around the heap, and the man had to admit that this was the most focused he’d ever seen his brother. 

He was determined. Adamant. 

“You guys are free to leave if you want”, Klaus bit back. “But I’m staying. And I _know_ it’s important.” 

“ _How?_ ” the question Luther posed was a very good one, and he knew it. Klaus knew it, too. 

“I just do”, his brother responded under his breath. “You’re gonna have to trust me with this, _Numero Uno._ ”

Klaus dug up his phone from his back pocket. Luther couldn’t see who he was calling. “Heyy”, the man greeted, a wide smile lighting up his face. “It’s Klaus. Listen, Tatiana-dear, I need you to give a message to the guys at the shelter”, he cleared his throat. “Tell them to take the bus to the Fresh Kill Landfill. Tell them if they can help me find something, I’ll buy them all drinks.”

Klaus ended the call and gave Luther a self-satisfied grin. 

“And by me, I mean Allison”, he turned his head. 

She responded with a rude hand gesture.

“Klaus”, Luther scolded. “You can’t do that. It’s her money.”

“You do realize she’s a millionaire, right?” Klaus raised his brows. “Just shut up, and get back to digging. We have a long day ahead of us.”

* * *

Six hours. Six sweaty, nasty, smelly hours at the landfill, whose workers had been less than satisfied to have the dig around in their grounds. 

Allison had begrudgingly bought drinks to over seventeen homeless people. 

And now? Klaus had been staring into that mannequin’s painted, bright-blue eyes for almost an hour straight. 

Absolutely _nothing._

Maybe it was his siblings. They hadn't left his side, equally curious about both the mannequin and him.

So really, it was three grown men and two grown women, all staring at a dirty mannequin. 

The mannequin stared right back. She was a mystery. A mystery that was mocking Klaus for not solving it yet. 

“Shut up”, he growled at it. He didn’t need anyone to make fun of him right now. 

“Come on”, he murmured, stepping closer to it. “What are you? Some kind of a relic, huh? Are you haunted? Hm?”

Klaus tugged at his powers, but he couldn’t sense anything supernatural about it. Could it be he’d been mistaken?

“There’s nothing special about it”, Allison threw her arms up in the air. “You were wrong.”

Klaus swallowed, raising his head to reply, but was frozen by the sight of not five, but _seven_ people staring back at him. 

His eye twitched. Klaus quickly straightened his back, and coughed to clear his throat.

There was a middle-aged couple standing behind Diego. The man himself had an empty, bored look on his face, seemingly completely oblivious to the fact that he was being watched.

Klaus took a deep breath.

_You can do this_ , he told himself. 

The bullet holes in their heads didn’t matter. 

Who cared that they were dead?

“Um, hello”, he cleared his throat again. The woman looked at him with wide, brown eyes, tear tracks forever frozen on her face. 

She started talking, her mouth was moving, but Klaus couldn’t hear anything. The man beside her nodded, and said something equally inaudible. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t hear you”, Klaus explained with a wavering voice. He barely noticed the stares he was getting - he was used to them.

The woman nodded with a somber expression, turning her attention back to Diego. 

More specifically, to Diego’s wrist. 

Klaus frowned, and the realization dawning on him. He surged forwards, and grabbed his brother by the arm. 

“Hey!” he yelped, as Klaus tugged the bracelet off his wrist. 

It was brown, made of wooden pearls. He showed it to the woman. 

“This?” he questioned. “Does this mean something to you?”

He blinked back in surprise, as the ghost couple flickered rapidly, disappearing out of sight. He whipped his head around in search of them. 

Klaus pulled his powers into focus again, tried so hard he almost popped a vein. 

Nothing. 

“Seriously?” he groaned, sitting back down. Diego looked angry, but Klaus couldn’t be arsed. 

“Can I have it back now?” he barked, but Klaus kept it in his fingers.

Was this the answer?

He let out a surprised yelp when the woman materialized right in front of his eyes, as quickly as she’d disappeared. Her face melted to a smile, and she spoke something again. She was speaking English, for sure, but Klaus had never been good at reading lips. 

But there was one word he caught. 

“ _Daughter_?” he raised his brows. “Diego, how did you get this?”

“I made it at the asylum, back in the 60’s”, he crossed his arms with raised brows. “I…” 

Diego blinked, cutting himself off mid-sentence. “Wait. No, that’s not right. I… I never made anything during arts and crafts.”

“Did somebody give this to you?” Klaus questioned with a feverish determination. 

He _had_ to know. 

“Maybe”, the man had a confused frown on his face, and he stared at the wooden pearls for a long time. “Must have.”

“Now, you don’t particularly strike me as the jewelry-wearing type”, Klaus pointed out. “So it must’ve had sentimental value.”

The woman had disappeared again. 

“Klaus, who do you see?” asked Vanya, taking a step closer. “Who were you talking to?”

“A woman and her husband”, Klaus sighed, leaning back thoughtfully, as he watched the woman flicker in and out of sight.

Back and forth. 

That wasn’t normal. Not any normal ghost did that.

“They’re ghosts, but…” he looked back at the bracelet. “There’s something wrong with them.”

“What do you mean?” Luther looked around nervously, even though he was perfectly aware that he wasn’t able to perceive them.

Only Klaus was. His personal curse to bear. 

“They keep disappearing and reappearing”, he mumbled. “And I can’t hear them. I can _always_ hear them.”

“Are you sure they’re ghosts, then?” asked Vanya. 

Klaus didn’t like that question, so he ignored it. “I’m pretty sure this bracelet belonged to their daughter. And when I say pretty sure, I mean it's... a possibility."

* * *

Luther had left the living room after Klaus’ little show was over. They’d sat in there for hours, theorizing about what the bracelet could mean, where it fits in Diego’s timeline, and Luther was sure there was something else he should be doing than listening to that endless, back-and-forth, headache-inducing horseshit. 

So Luther had gone and made himself some popcorn, got himself a blanket, and seated himself in the corridor, in front of the wall, back leaning against the door that lead to Ben's room.

The ripped wallpaper was there, staring back at him. Luther narrowed his eyes at it.

Ghosts who were there only some of the time?

So why not doors that only existed some of the time?

Luther grabbed a fistful of popcorn and shoved them in his mouth. He wouldn’t leave until he saw that door again. 

“Luther?” Vanya’s soft voice called out as she ascended up the staircase. “What’re you doing?”

Luther turned his head. “Testing a theory”, he decided, was the best answer he could give.

Vanya walked closer, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her shoulders. 

“The door”, she whispered. 

“The door.”

“Mind if I join you?” she then asked, looking down at him. 

Luther cracked the blanket, inviting her in. He wouldn’t mind the company. 

And considering their history, it was nice that Vanya still wanted to spend time with him in the first place. 

After all this time, after all that had happened, he was still her brother, and she was still his sister.

* * *

“What do you think is behind it?” asked Vanya quietly. They’d been waiting for over an hour. She was unfathomably bored of staring at the chipping wooden panel, and the similarly colored wallpaper above it.

This house was so full of secrets. So full of memories, no matter how incomplete they may have been in that moment. 

The stories it could tell.

“I have no clue”, Luther confessed. “Probably has something to do with the timeline dying, and all that.”

“Yeah”, hummed Vanya. “I have a theory.”

“Theory?” asked Luther, turning his head. 

“About the room behind that door”, she offered. “And who it might’ve belonged to.”

Luther raised his brows. “Do tell.”

“Allison thought I was crazy”, Vanya stated. Allison hadn’t exactly said that, but she knew what her sister had been thinking. 

She had a rational mind, and she thought things from a different perspective. Even Vanya had to admit that she'd made some fair arguments. Enough to make her doubt her own intuition.

“Tell me anyway?” asked Luther, his blue eyes soft. 

Vanya smiled at him. “I think the room belongs to a sibling we may have forgotten”, she shrugged. “Number Five.”

“We’ve never had a Number Five”, Luther said. “Dad never told us why, though.”

“What if he was erased, too?” Vanya challenged, swallowing a mouthful of popcorn. “It’s not totally outlandish, is it? People are being erased, and we have been pretty involved with time travel. Isn’t it possible?”

“I suppose”, shrugged Luther. “Does this… suspicion of yours have something to do with dreams you've been having?”

Vanya turned her head down, swallowing the lump down her throat.

Did she want to talk about it? 

Not really. 

“You could say so”, she ended up whispering. 

An hour later, she had almost fallen asleep against Luther’s shoulder. It wasn't comfortable, considering how tall the man was compared to her, but she didn't mind.

She hadn’t been sleeping too well.

She was about to slip off to the bliss of sleep, when Luther suddenly moved. 

“Vanny”, he poked at her shoulder, and she reluctantly opened her eyes. 

“It’s here”, Luther hissed. 

All traces of sleep disappeared in an instant, and Vanya’s brains flooded with adrenaline. 

They jumped to their feet. 

The door stood there, as old and dusty as it had been before, shadowing over them. Vanya swallowed - was this the answer?

_Is this what you want me to find?_

_Are you here, Five?_

Her heart was racing, the erratic beat echoing inside her head.

To Vanya’s surprise, Luther walked right up to the door and without a second’s doubt, he _kicked_ it open.

The hinges bent and whined and then snapped under the force. 

As the door fell down with a loud slam, a massive cloud of dust caused them both to stumble back and flee from its way. 

Vanya’s eyes watered as the dust entered her lungs, sending her to a violent coughing fit. 

A few seconds passed, and the dust settled. She took the time to catch her breath, exchanging glances with his brother. 

He nodded at her. 

Vanya walked into the dark room. She looked at the window at the back, and she knew. 

She’d been in here before. That was the window from her dream. She’d left a plate here - a plate with a fluffernutter sandwich. She’d left the lights on.

Flakes of dust floated in the air. 

Vanya blinked, tearing her eyes away. She canvassed the room, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness.

There was nothing here. 

The room was entirely empty.


	6. I Was Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listeeen, my update schedule is just the result of a frenzy brought on by the endless quarantine. I'm pretty sure this is just my brain's last hurrah. 
> 
> Thank you for the kind comments! I read them all, and they really warm my heart.
> 
> P.S. I had to edit some inconsistencies away from the previous chapters. For example, the location of Five's room. Sorry!

_I want to leave my footprints_

_in the sands of time;_

_know there was something that_

_meant something,_

_that I left behind;_

_Leave something to remember,_

_so they won’t forget;_

_I was here._

* * *

Time didn’t really exist in the void.

Five had come to that realization almost as soon as he’d regained consciousness. How long had it been for his siblings?

How many days?

Or had it been weeks?

Months?

_(… Years?)_

Five had been sad earlier. He’d grieved the life that had been stolen from him - he grieved that he’d been robbed of a chance to be happy.

Time and time again. 

Now? He was out. He couldn’t be bothered to _feel._

So he was numb instead. He stared at the wall for what seemed like eons, his thoughts muddled by a grey haze.

That's what this world was.

( _Grey_.)

Five’s half-assed existence was a meaningless one. 

That’s when he, against all odds, heard a sound. 

A sound that he did not make. A sound that shouldn’t really be there. 

It was the creaking of old, un-oiled hinges. Five turned his head with slow, sluggish movements. 

The door was cracked open.

Five swallowed. Was there something out there? Some unknown entity swimming in the abyss? 

But no, this wasn’t that. He got up on his feet, and eyed at the door suspiciously. Hundreds of scenarios flashed across his mind, each more terrifying than the last. 

His heartbeat was deafening. 

Five let out a calming, steadying exhale, before taking a step forward to reach the door, and open it. 

What he found was not what he’d expected. 

For a few long, agonizing moments, Five just stood there and blinked in awe. 

This didn’t make much sense. Why would this door be leading to his own room?

This sure as hell wasn’t accurately representing the Academy’s architecture. These rooms shouldn’t even be near one another. 

Hesitantly, Five took a step forward. His room was seemingly untouched - covered in a thick layer of dust. All his things, the furniture, the chalkboard lining the walls, circling the whole room. 

Old toys that he hadn’t used since he was nine. Books he’d gotten for Christmas but had never bothered to read. And old dartboard on the wall him and Diego had played with. 

Five’s breath was stuck in his throat as he ran his fingers over the aged markings on the wall around the board. 

Conversations from days long past echoed inside his mind. 

“ _Y-you know you c-c-can’t w-win, Five”,_ Diego would grin. “ _Just give u-up._ ”

“ _Oh yeah?_ ” he’d reply. “ _Don’t be so sure of yourself, big boy._ ”

Five closed his eyes and leaned his head against the dust-covered wall. 

_(_ __I_ t hurts.) _

He sniffled, and pushed back the agonizing pain clawing his heart. He turned around and took a deep, shaky breath to calm himself down. 

Five’s eyes fluttered open, and he scanned the dark and shadowy room. The record player was still in the corner. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, and he stepped closer to inspect it.

There was a vinyl still inside. He hummed thoughtfully, and opened the cover to take it out. He blew the dust off as well as he could, and a cough rattled his lungs as he breathed it in. 

Would it work? 

Only one way to find out. 

Five set the vinyl back inside the player, and carefully set the spike on top of it. 

He heard the familiar static, before it the music began.

A smile climbed up to his face as he heard it. 

This was the last piece of music he’d listened to before travelling to the future. 

Before his nightmare began. 

How ironic it was that the last song he’d been listening to was _Time Waits for No One._

Five would’ve laughed, if he’d had the energy. Instead, he let the music fill his head and wandered around the room. His eyes landed on the abandoned pieces of chalk hastily thrown to the side of the table. 

Five wasn’t entirely sure why this room was here. He assumed it could have something to do with his consciousness returning to existence. For one reason or another. 

He rolled the dusty piece of chalk in his hand, thoughtfully. 

Did his room still exist?

Five sighed, looking up at the blackboard. He got up on his toes to write on it. 

It wasn’t a message for anyone, not really. It was more like his final effort at leaving some kind of a mark behind. 

Even if this place wasn’t really here. Even if this whole thing was a creation of a dying consciousness, its final defence mechanism. 

Maybe this was just his timestream, unraveling. 

It didn’t matter. He wanted to leave behind a message.

After Five was done he discarded the piece of chalk to the floor. His eyes found the small, dirty mirror hanging on the wall. 

He walked up to it sluggishly.

Five still found it surreal to think that this is what he looked like. A little fucking kid. 

Maybe that was also a reason that the timeline had ejected him. He was… _impossible,_ really.

( _Fuck_.)

A frustrated, desperate snarl rose from somewhere deep within Five’s chest, and he punched at the reflection staring back at him. 

It didn’t make him feel better. Not really.

That's when Five was startled by an ear-piercing sound. His blood seemed to freeze, and he slowly turned around to look inside the room he’d previously been trapped in. 

( _It can’t be. I’m imagining things.)_

He hadn’t expected that sound. Not here. Not in a million years. 

_(Hallucinating. Must be.)_

The phone was ringing. 

* * *

Klaus narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. 

What was her deal, honestly?

To him, it seemed like the mannequin was almost a living person. He was almost expecting it to wink at him or something. 

“What’s your game, huh?” he murmured, raising a brow at her. 

Klaus had come to the realization that he’d managed to conjure _something_ in the living room earlier that day. 

Whoever that couple had been, it’d had nothing to do with this mannequin. 

No, instead of answers all they’d gotten was more questions. Klaus rubbed at his tired eyes, giving the mannequin a frustrated glare before falling to his bed. 

He stared up into the twinkling fairy lights above his bed, just thinking. 

It was during moments like these when Klaus really missed Ben. 

He’d always know the missing piece, give a useful insight, or just offer his advice.

That, or he’d be an obnoxious prick whose sole purpose of existing was to annoy Klaus. 

Or sometimes, rarely, Ben would sulk in the corner and give him the silent treatment for a day or few. Once Klaus had made him so mad that he wouldn’t talk for almost a week. 

But Ben had always come around. 

Now? He was alone with his problems.

Well, not _alone,_ alone. At least Klaus’ siblings finally seemed to believe him when he told them things. 

He decided to get up and go for a quick smoke. He was in a desperate need to clear his head.

Klaus slithered out of his room, and wandered off towards the fourth floor. There was a room he’d usually sneak off to as a kid, to smoke a joint when he was trying to avoid dad, or God forbid, Pogo.

Klaus was surprised to find that the space was already occupied. 

“Allison?” his brows popped up as he saw her sister sitting on the window panel with her legs crossed, looking out into the city. 

She flinched upon hearing him call her name, and for a moment Klaus was frightened she might fall down. 

“Oh”, she breathed out a puff of smoke, a shadow of guilt crossing over her face. “It’s just you.”

“Scared that Pogo will find you up here?” Klaus grinned. “It’s fine, he went to bed already.”

“Yeah”, Allison hummed, taking another drag. “Came to join me?”

“Yup.”

Klaus’ eyes landed on the pile of files lying opened on the floor. 

“Still working on those, huh?” he raised his brows. “I thought Herb would’ve cleared some stuff up already.”

“Yeah, I know”, Allison shrugged. “But Herb had to go back to the Commission HQ for an emergency meeting, and I just… I keep thinking there’s something in those files that will help us stop this thing.”

“I mean, none of us really know what we’re doing here”, Klaus admitted. “Not even Herb.”

He frowned at a name Allison had highlighted with red.

_Dolores Adler_ , _retired executive chairperson._

“Dolores”, mumbled Klaus to himself, tasting the name on his tongue. It felt familiar. Sort of. But why?

Allison offered him a light, and he drew in a deep inhale of smoke. 

“Whatcha thinking, sis?” asked Klaus. 

“Claire”, she admitted. “I just… I just miss her so much.”

“It’s not fair”, Klaus told her, grabbing her hand. “That you’ve been away for two years, and you didn’t even get to see her yet.”

“Yeah”, she whispered, eyes glistening in the dark. She squeezed his hand. 

“We’ve stopped two apocalypses already”, Klaus encouraged with a small smile. “You’ll see her once this is over.”

“What if we stop this one, and then there’s a fourth?” Allison raised her brows with a humorless chuckle. “Where does it end, Klaus? Why’s it our job to be the heroes?” She drew in a shuddering breath, bringing the cigarette back to her shaky lips. “How did our lives get _so_ messed up?”

Shadows of the past flashed through his mind. So much pain, so much _shit._

“Our lives were doomed to be like this the moment our biological parents agreed to sell us to dad”, scoffed Klaus. “What kind of a parent let’s that happen?”

“I don’t know”, Allison confessed, slowly tilting her head to look at him. “As a mother, I can’t imagine ever letting go of my daughter.”

They sat in silence for a while, which was unusual for Klaus. He liked talking, but something about this moment was demanding the quiet. 

It wasn’t an awkward silence, though. Allison leaned her head against Klaus’ shoulder, and he pressed his cheek against her hair. 

They stayed like that until their cigarettes turned cold.

* * *

Stretching vigorously, Klaus marched towards his bed. He fell onto it with a thump, euphoria filling his brains as the softness of his sheets welcomed him home. 

He turned over, and glanced at the mannequin at the end of his bed. 

“Come oooon”, he murmured beguilingly. “You can tell me. It can be our little secret. C’mon.”

The mannequin stared back, blue eyes unblinking. 

Groaning with frustration, Klaus gave up and closed his eyes. 

It took less than five seconds for something to compel him to open them again. 

It was his phone. 

Klaus frowned, leaning towards it. It was still where he’d left it earlier, charging by the wall. It had turned on by itself. 

Well, that wasn’t normal. 

“Okay, if this is a ghost unrelated to my current predicament, can you please fuck off?” Klaus groaned, forcing his tired eyes to stare at the bright screen. 

There was no response, but instead, his screen flickered off and on again. 

This time, it had opened his call history. Klaus’ eyes widened. 

( _What in the fresh hell is this?)_

This was definitely new. No one had possessed his phone before. Klaus glanced at the mannequin suspiciously. 

“Is this you?” 

The phone turned off again. Klaus sighed in frustration. 

But the silence didn’t last long. 

What was that sound?

Someone was playing music - at this hour?

Klaus frowned, and slowly got up from his bed. It was a Rolling Stones song, one he recognized but didn’t really know why. 

His siblings weren’t _that_ into _the Stones_ , were they? 

Not enough to be listening to them at half past one in the morning, anyway. 

Klaus put on his slippers, and stepped out into the hallway. It was coming from the end of the hallway. Where Ben's old room was.

How curious, he thought, slightly terrified.

Perhaps Klaus had accidentally conjured him again, unintentionally? 

He’d be pissed.

Klaus walked forwards, and turned around the corner. What he found was not at all what he’d expected. 

There was a room opposite of Ben’s. The door had been forced off its hinges, and a thick blanket of dust was hanging in the air. 

Klaus swallowed, and stepped closer. To his surprise, he found Luther and Vanya standing inside, in the dark. They couldn’t have been in there for very long - the dust hadn't settled yet.

The window had been seemingly nailed shut, and all the light they had was coming from Vanya's phone.

But what caught Klaus’ attention the most was the record player lying in the corner. He swallowed, taking a step closer. 

The floor panel creaked, alerting both of his siblings about his arrival. They turned around and stared. 

“Klaus?” Luther questioned. 

“What is this place?” he choked out, a suffocating tightness wrapping itself around his chest. “Why are you listening to _the_ _Stones_?”

“What?” Vanya raised her brows, eyeing at her brother in confusion. “No one’s listening anything.”

Klaus stared back at her, dumbfounded. “Can’t you hear it?”

He pointed towards it. 

Luther and Vanya both turned around. He couldn’t see their faces, but their body language changed.

They were shocked. Alarmed. 

“Where did that come from?” Vanya’s voice trembled. “The room was empty just before you came in here.” 

“Is this what you were trying to show me, Ms. Mannequin?” Klaus thought aloud. He blinked in surprise upon hearing a soft sizzling noise above his head. 

Confused, he looked up. 

His jaw locked open. 

“Do you see that, then?” he swallowed. 

“Yeah”, Luther’s voice was stone-cold. “We see it.”

A chalkboard had appeared in the room. It was so vast it covered most of the walls, and it was just as dusty as the rest of the place, but…

Vanya turned her phone light towards the only spot on the board that seemed recently used.

It filled Klaus’ heart with an unfathomably deep sense of sorrow and loss, one he couldn’t quite wrap his finger around. 

An unbelievably strong grief he could not place.

_(Who did I lose?)_

There were three words written in the bottom corner of the blackboard encircling the room. The handwriting was _beautiful._ There had been a slight tremor in the writer’s hand, but the cursive letters were otherwise neat and symmetric. 

Actually, it reminded him of their father's notes. All old-timey, and such.

‘I Was Here’, it said. 

_I was here_. 

The sound of shattering glass made Klaus almost jump into Luther’s arms, and he didn’t even bother to hold in the scream of alarm. 

There was a broken mirror lying on the ground. It had shattered into dozens of small pieces, all dusty and barely reflecting anything. 

But as Klaus leaned closer, Vanya and Luther hovering over him, he saw something. 

A reflection of someone's face in the fractures.

None of them were near enough to be reflected off of it.

So who was that?

A shiver ran down his spine. He saw a glimpse of a green eye, slender fingers, a dark coat, but then…

Nothing. 

Klaus’ hysterical brain thought it was the right time to point out that this was perhaps the oddest haunting he’d ever seen. 

  
  


* * *

“I’m gonna go find Pogo”, Luther stated slowly. Klaus could tell he was deeply disturbed by what they’d just witnessed, and he wanted out of here. 

Couldn’t blame him, really.

Luther was the kind of guy who wanted some time to think things through on his own. 

“Diego and Allison”, Vanya reminded him shakily. “Tell them, too.”

The man stormed off without a word.

Vanya turned to look at Klaus. Her eyes were wide and glassy, but that wasn’t all he could see. There was a fire burning within, a determined passion. 

It reminded Klaus of the times she’d been completely focused in playing her violin, her fingers dancing on the strings with ease, eyes canvassing the notes. When she'd looked and sounded so _alive_.

Vanya was about to say something to him, when her attention was diverted to Klaus’ front pocket. 

“Klaus”, she said quietly. “Your phone.”

With quick, trembling fingers, Klaus dug out his phone. 

It was calling an unknown number. 

He was about to hit the reject button, when a sudden sound from one floor up made his blood run cold. 

A phone was ringing. 

Klaus’ eyes locked into Vanya’s. They didn’t need words. 

Both of them shot out of the room, darting towards the staircase.

( _This is really happening._ )

Klaus’ blood was rushing in his ears. 

_(Vanya was right.)_

This wasn't Ben. This was no ghost. 

Klaus was panting, gasping for air, by the time they reached the door at the back of the house. 

They didn’t really come in here often. Or, well… ever. 

_(This is... This is **him** .) _

Vanya grabbed the handle, but at that moment, Klaus’ phone went dark. 

“It’s not calling anymore”, he whispered, a sudden realization hitting him. "It cut off."

His sister stared back at him. 

“Then… why’s the phone still ringing?”

Klaus’ head was spinning.

Vanya opened the door.

It was a completely normal landline, made of black plastic. 

“This is where I keep waking up”, Vanya swallowed, a slightly manic tone in her voice. “When I sleepwalk.”

Klaus grabbed the telephone, and brought it to his ear. Vanya glued onto him, and he leaned downwards far enough for her to listen.

Klaus cleared his throat, _praying_ that his voice wouldn’t fail him. 

“Hello?”

For a moment, there was nothing but static. The connection seemed _ghastly_ , but Klaus could swear he heard someone draw in a stuttering breath on the other end. 

“ _Hello? Is anybody there...?_ ”

Klaus’ heart dropped down to his feet. He tried to draw in a breath, but his lungs refused to obey. 

Vanya’s eyes had glazed over, her jaw hanging open in frozen shock.

“ _Can anybody hear me?_ ”

The voice was so small, so vulnerable. 

So _broken_. 

“Yes, _yes_ , oh my God”, Klaus finally burst out, a breathless, hysterical laugh escaping his lips. “We can hear you, Five.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end. 

Klaus and Vanya were both holding their breath. 

He felt her heartbeat in the dark, as erratic and frenzied as his own. 

“ _Y-you remember me_?” 

Klaus sank down to the floor. He almost didn’t notice it. Vanya grabbed the phone, and hurriedly sat down next to him.

( _He’s real.)_

Klaus’ throat was dry. 

( _He was here_. _)_

“Yes, Five”, Vanya’s voice was ragged. “We remember.”

“Where are you?” Klaus found his voice again, albeit it trembled. “W-where are you, we’ll come find you!”

( _Please._ )

Klaus hadn’t even realized. How had he not realized?

He’d been missing a person _this_ much, but he’d just brushed it off as still being sad over Dave or Ben.

And all the while he'd been missing someone who was supposed to be _alive_.

“ _You can’t_.”

Klaus’ blood ran cold.

“What do you mean, we can’t?” Vanya stuttered, her panicked breaths turning into gasps. 

“ _Because I don’t know where I am_.”

Something about the way he said it made Klaus slip off the edge. The tears that had been welling up in his eyes finally pushed themselves out, and he squeezed them shut. 

( _Please, no_.)

“What can we do, Five?”

Vanya was squeezing Klaus’ hand so hard that her knuckles were turning white. 

Or perhaps she was powering up? Getting ready to blow up the world again? 

For some reason, the thought seemed _hilarious_ in Klaus’ head. 

“The timeline’s collapsing”, he managed to spout. “You hear that, Five? The world’s ending again.”

A static stutter from the other end hurt his ear, and for a single, horrifyingly long second, he thought that they’d lost him. 

“ _Of course…”_

( _Thank you, little girl in Heaven. Thank you_.)

The call was still going. 

“ _Okay, listen”_ , Five’s thin voice wavered. “ _You need to find the Handler. She’ll figure it out.”_

“Okay, okay-”

“ _You hear me? Find the Handler.”_

Vanya let out a scream as the phone she was gripping suddenly spat out a stream of white sparks. Klaus slapped it away from her hand, and she stared at the burnt skin with widened eyes. 

In a panicked stupor, Klaus realized that the landline was on fire. Vanya ripped off the cardigan she was wearing, and threw the fabric on top of the small flames.

The smell of burning plastic almost made Klaus hurl right then and there. 

The fire was out, and Vanya's knees gave.

She cried silently by his side.

The phone was dead, and they were left sitting in that cramped room, staring off into the dark. Vanya tried to calm her breathing, and Klaus pulled her close as her body began convulsing from the force of her sobs.

( _He’s alive. He’s real. He exists_.)

Klaus blinked the tears away.

They’d talked with him. He couldn’t believe it, they’d actually _heard his voice._

And now, they were left with the burning question.

The only question that really mattered.

“Who the hell”, Klaus whispered, barely audibly, “is the Handler?”


	7. The Heart Remembers

_You’re my brother,_

_and I love you._

* * *

  
  


“The Handler?” repeated Diego, brows furrowed. “That’s what he said? Just, ‘find the Handler’?”

“Yes!” Vanya and Klaus exclaimed in perfect sync. 

It made him frown. “Okay. So how are we supposed to find out who that is?”

“So wait, you actually talked to him?” Allison hadn’t said anything yet, but there was still a scepticism in her voice. “How’s that even possible?”

“How’s it possible I can conjure the dead, Allison?” Klaus growled, surprisingly angered by her question. “How can Diego hold his breath forever? How can _any_ of us do _anything_?”

Allison snapped her mouth shut.

“He does have a point”, shrugged Diego. 

“Allison”, Luther had been quiet until then, but now took a step closer to her. “I saw the room. I saw the record player, the writing on the wall.”

Diego sensed the conflict within his sister. She didn’t want to believe that they had actually forgotten their own _brother_. Some random Commission agents of dubious significance, sure - but a brother? She didn’t want to believe it was possible. But when Luther looked at her like that, she had no choice.

“Five was erased”, Diego said softly, breaking their moment. “And we need to find out why.”

“Exactly”, nodded Luther. “Why was he erased, but none of us were?”

“Have we considered the fact that Five might actually _be_ the turncoat agent?” Vanya shrugged, effectively making Diego question his sanity for the twenty-third time that day. 

“We need to talk to Herb”, he shook his head slowly. “He might know who the Handler is.”

“Could our brother actually have been working for those lunatics?” Klaus pondered, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. 

“I mean, it makes sense, right?” Vanya shrugged. “We know the turncoat travelled to 2019 to warn us about the apocalypse. What if it was Five, and he did it to save us?”

Diego had to admit her theory was a solid one. 

He also knew that they weren’t all that well equipped with knowledge about the inner workings of time. 

“I’m gonna visit the Commission HQ”, he decided, raising his head. “We _need_ to speak with Herb, and he’s the only one who might be able bring some clarity to the situation.”

“Do you even know where it is?” Allison raised her brows in disbelief. 

“The case has a home setting”, Diego nodded towards the black briefcase lying in the corner. 

“Okay, but I’m coming with”, Luther crossed his arms. “No way I’m letting you go there alone.”

Diego narrowed his eyes - was the guy serious?

It wasn’t like the Commission was their enemy any longer. All he’d be doing was talking with stupidly polite and socially awkward scribes. 

But then again, Luther wasn’t his enemy either. 

“Fine”, Diego finally spat. 

* * *

  
  


Vanya’s head was pounding from the amount of crying she’d been doing, but there was also a terrifyingly familiar numbness growing in her chest.

She hated that feeling. 

She _hated_ being numb. 

Vanya knew it was solely due to the overload of emotions she’d been feeling that night, but it didn’t make it any easier. 

She’d spent the vast majority of her life numb.

Finally, she’d started to _feel_ things. 

No matter how bad it hurt, no matter how much it felt like someone was ripping her chest right open and crushing her heart under their heel, she wouldn’t trade it for the numbness.

Not in a million years. 

So what Vanya needed right now was to sleep it off and be back on her feet tomorrow morning to solve this mess.

To save Five. 

Vanya thought that perhaps she could finally have a tight, dreamless night. 

She couldn’t be bothered to change into her PJs. 

She was _exhausted_ , and she was asleep before her head even hit the pillow. 

But she did dream.

Vanya dreamt of a dog, of all things. It was shining, white, and its long fur looked to be made of pure energy. It had no eyes, but she could still feel it watching her. 

She was standing outside, on the stairs of the Academy. 

The world around her didn’t look right. 

When Vanya looked up, she saw the sky was made of pure light. 

It was blue-hued, electrical, similar to the vortex that swallowed them when they’d time travel. 

Well, not similar. 

( _Exactly the same_.) 

Vanya watched the sinews of energy slither around in the depths of her dream-sky, but had to turn away from the brightness.

The dog was further away now. 

Scared that she might lose it, Vanya started running. 

The dog always stayed at a distance, but seemed to stop and wait for her whenever she’d fall behind. .

And yet, always out of her reach. 

The scenery changed. Vanya’s eyes were so fixated on the dog she didn’t even realize at first.

The roar of the city was long gone. What she saw, instead, was the sea.

The smell of salt and marine life filled her lungs, and Vanya breathed in deep. It must have been the most refreshing breath of air she’d ever inhaled. 

A seagull shrieked somewhere in the distance. 

Her body relaxed, and she closed her eyes. The wind played with her hair, and she heard the crunching of pebbles beneath her feet. 

Vanya opened her eyes, and saw the dog again. It disappeared inside a lighthouse, tail wagging as it entered. As she looked up, she could see a silhouette in the window.

There was somebody up there, watching her.

* * *

Klaus looked around Five’s room with calculating eyes. His gaze brushed over the discarded mirror, the cursive letters on the blackboard, the dusty record player. 

With slow, careful movements, he set the needle towards the center. 

_The Rolling Stones_. It had been Five’s favorite band as a kid, Klaus remembered.

How? He wasn’t sure, but he _knew_. 

( _His favorite_.)

He closed his eyes and swallowed, calming his breathing down as much as he could. Total relaxation, that’s what he needed.

Drugs would’ve helped, probably, but Klaus didn’t do those anymore. 

Klaus could do this without them. He'd be better off, probably.

He thought about the summer they’d been twelve. There had been a once in a lifetime kind of situation, where their dad had let Grace take them on a weekend getaway. Klaus was sure that he’d just needed the house for himself to meet some people regarding his work, but he didn’t really care about the reason.

What mattered was that him and his siblings had been _free_ and _just_ _kids_ for a whole weekend. 

Grace had rented a cabin by the sea. The air would smell like salt and seaweed, and they would collect shells and shiny, cool pebbles to their pockets. It got to the point where Klaus’ pants started to droop with the weight. 

They had baked chocolate-chip cookies in the evening, and he had burnt his finger. Grace had given him a cartoon-themed bandaid.

He could still smell the cookies.

They'd swim in the cool sea, play in the water, and then let the sun dry them up. Klaus remembered them practically _living_ in their swimwear.

When it got dark, Grace had made a fire to the beach. It was the first time Klaus had tasted a s'more. There had been a record player, and he remembered dancing to _Backstreet Boys_ with Grace, feet slipping in the sand. Ben had been screaming along to every song - he'd known all the lyrics. By bedtime his voice had been raspy from the singing, but his eyes had been alit.

( _Five's record player_.)

None of them had worn any shoes at all. Grace would complain about their dirty feet, and told them to wash up before coming inside. Allison and Vanya had listened, but the rest of them hadn’t.

Klaus remembered Diego trying to teach him how to skip stones, but he’d never learned. It ended up being a competition between Luther and Diego, and he watched them from the side.

That was, until Ben had come up to him and asked him to come play Uno with him and Five.

Klaus’ mouth hang open.

_(I remember him.)  
_

They’d sat outside in the grass, and held onto their cards as the sea wind had tried to steal them away, and Grace had brought them popsicles. 

Klaus liked the strawberry ones, Ben’s favorite was the cola flavor, and Five… 

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Five had always liked the green ones. Apple or pear, he couldn’t recall. 

Klaus gasped, and his lips curved to an automatic smile.

( _I remember you, Five.)_

Well, not all of it, but he remembered _something_. 

He couldn’t remember what Five’s face looked like. The thought made his heart wrench with grief.

His eyes fluttered open. They widened. 

Klaus scrambled to get up on his feet, blinking rapidly to take in the scene. 

Five’s room wasn’t empty anymore. 

His bed was right there, as was the closet. The window was no longer nailed shut, and the curtains were back in their place. As he looked up, he saw that the blackboard had a lot more than just three cursive words on it.

The board was _littered_ with mathematical equations, written in small and decisive font that utilized all of the space available. 

“Holy _shit_ ”, he breathed. 

* * *

  
  


It had taken Vanya an entire hour of research to find the lighthouse she was looking for. It was very remote, and got little to no publicity. The only picture she could find was grainy and old, and there was no mention of its current caretaker.

She’d taken the car without a word.

Allison would probably call after he at some point, but Vanya wasn’t in a mood to explain her dreams to anyone. 

Not right now. 

But when she stared at the wretched, weather-beaten, white-plastered tower, she felt a strange sensation of resolve. 

Vanya wondered why. 

She was woken back to reality by a loud bark. Alarmed, the woman turned her head to see a collie right next to her car, wagging its tail enthusiastically. 

It looked friendly. Vanya swallowed, and stepped out of her car. 

The collie began sniffing her thoroughly, and even gave a few kisses on the back of her hand. 

It made her smile. 

( _" **You came**."_)

Vanya looked up, heart heart rate increasing rapidly. 

Why was there a voice inside her head?

A man had appeared from inside the lighthouse. He stood by the edge of the cliff, looking towards the sea. 

Swallowing, she used her fingers to comb back the stray locks of hair which the wind was throwing at her face. 

The man was old. In his sixties or seventies, was Vanya’s best guess. He was skinny, and had a grey beard. 

Was this the Handler?

Vanya stepped closer, studying his face. His eyes were pale blue, surrounded by wrinkles. He smiled at her. 

( _“ **Hello Vanya.** ”_)

She did not understand. How was he doing this?

He took her hand, and her jaw dropped. 

( _Oh, God.)_

She was no longer at a rocky cliff on Long Island. 

She saw something else. 

Flashes of warm, sunny days on Sissy’s farm, cold glasses of lemonade on a sweaty afternoon, the smell of horseradish and sage, the somber tune of a cello soft in the back of her head.

She’d recognize that tune anywhere. 

Vanya stared, and her lungs forgot how to breathe. 

_It can't be_.

Her voice trembled. 

“ _Harlan_?” 

* * *

“Here we are”, Diego panted, leaning his hands against his knees. They’d only just made it out of the crowded bunker, filled with briefcase-carrying agents hurrying past.

No one seemed to pay any attention to them. Everyone was too stressed, too busy. 

Time travel never ceased to make his stomach twist and turn. He would never understand how Commission agents did this as a job. 

Diego straightened his back, and Luther did the same. 

He tilted his head - he’d never seen the HQ from the outside. Green, grassy fields surrounded the place. To the outside, it looked like a university. All posh and such. 

Him and Luther exchanged glances. 

“Just go in through the front door, or…?”

“Yeah”, Diego shrugged. “It’s not like we’re snooping around or anything.”

There was a tight-shouldered security guard standing inside the building, eyes fixed on the door as they entered.

He frowned at them. 

“Stop”, the guy said. “ID? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Diego Hargeeves”, he introduced with a pleasant smile. “This is my brother, Luther.”

The security guard glanced at the larger man with concern, and looked to be measuring him with his eyes. 

Diego found it mildly humorous. 

“Listen, we’re here to see Herb”, he leaned closer. “Is he here?”

“The acting chairman is in a meeting”, the guard replied stiffly. “He’s a busy man.”

“Oh, we know”, grimaced Luther. “But it’s important. It’s about the end of time.”

“Right”, the man grunted. “I’ll show you to his office. Follow me.”

Luther glanced at his brother sceptically. “Well that was easy.”

“Shh”, Diego hissed. They followed the brutish man through the endless, marmor hallways. 

He noticed that the Commission HQ was much less bubbly and suffocatingly joyful as the last time he’d been here. Instead of cheerful chatter, he heard concerned whispers and saw nothing but pale, tired faces.

Diego had long since realized that he didn’t actually remember who had brought him there, but it was brazenly obvious that whoever it was, had been erased the same way as Five.

Perhaps it had been him who’d brought Diego there. Who knew.

But then, who had given him the bracelet?

Diego fiddled with the wooden pearls thoughtfully. 

Whoever they had been, he’d felt deeply about them. Maybe even _loved_ them.

The thought distrubed him. 

* * *

Vanya’s fingers dug into the old sheep-wool cardigan. Tears prickled in her eyes, and her breathless laugh was muffled by Harlan’s shoulder.

She pulled away, pressing her palm the man’s weather-beaten, blemished cheek. 

“Look at you”, she breathed. “ _Look_ at you.”

Harlan’s expression was soft, but his eyes wandered. (" _ **You haven't aged a day**_.")

( _It hasn’t even been a week since I said goodbye.)_

Vanya’s hand fell.

( _For him, it’s been a lifetime._ )

(“ ** _Something’s wrong, isn’t it_**?”) His deep, old eyes studied her tear-tracked face. (“ _ **With time**_.”)

She bit her wobbly bottom lip, and nodded.

“My brother”, she hiccuped. “He’s gone. He’s been erased from the timeline.”

Harlan nodded thoughtfully, turning his gaze back towards the restless sea. 

(“ ** _The Handler_** ”.) His voice echoed within her skull again. (“ ** _You wish to find her_**.”)

“Yes!” Vanya blurted out.

_How's he doing this_?

She pushed back the how's and why's. They weren't important, not right now.

Harlan petted the collie absentmindedly, rubbing its exposed throat. The dog looked blissful. 

(" ** _She’s lost in time as well_**.") he then said, glancing at her. (“ _ **Your brother didn’t know that. But nothing’s ever lost forever**_.”)

He grabbed her hand again, and she felt a flash of energy surge through her. It made her shiver. It was Harlan's energy, and it was intense, and bright, and so very _him_ it almost made her burst out crying.

Almost.

(" ** _Memories are important, Vanya. They’re_ so _important. They have power_**.”)

“But how do I remember?” she tried to keep the despair out of her voice. 

Harlan rubbed her palm with his thumb, smiling lopsidedly. (“ ** _The Handler isn’t the answer._** ”)

Vanya’s shoulders slumped. “Then _what_ is?”

His gaze wandered for a moment. (“ _ **Your brother may be gone from here**_.") The man gently stroked her temple with the back of his fingers. 

He then pointed towards Vanya’s chest.

(“ _ **But he’s never gone from here. The heart always remembers**_.”)

* * *

“We need you to come visit the Academy again”, Luther announced, as soon as the short man entered his office. 

Herb glanced up at him with a pained grimace. 

“Sorry, I was meaning to come earlier, but it’s been hell in here”, he huffed. “What’s happened?”

“A lot of things”, Diego crossed his arms. “For example - we’ve discovered that our brother, Number Five, was one of the people who got erased.”

Herb’s head popped upon hearing his name.

“Five”, he whispered to himself. “Interesting.”

“Vanya and Klaus were able to establish a direct connection to him”, Luther told him, watching his reaction with interest. 

Herb stared at him, eyes wide. “Pardon?”

“They had a brief phone call, before the landline melted”, Diego clarified. 

“Remarkable”, the man breathed. “This… this could be the breakthrough we’re looking for.”

His dim eyes seemed to lighten up with a newfound glimmer.

“Tell me everything”, he demanded. “I need to know the events that lead to this.”

“Vanya and Klaus can tell you in detail”, Luther replied. “That’s why we need you to come back to the Academy with us.”

Herb swallowed, nodding in understanding. “Okay. It’s just…” he seemed uneasy. “The timestream seems to be degrading exponentially faster. Things here are more hectic than ever.”

“What do you mean degrading faster?” Luther’s throat felt closed up. 

“I mean we may not have as long as I initially thought.”

* * *

“Oh, my God”, breathed Diego, eyes raking over the previously dust-covered room. “How did you guys _do_ this?”

“I started remembering bits and pieces”, Klaus shrugged. “It began with the record player. I remembered that _the Stones_ was his favorite band. Then I remembered some stuff from our childhood.”

Herb was scribbling to his notebook like a maniac. “This is promising. Very promising indeed.”

“What makes you say that?” Diego raised his brows, glancing at him over his shoulder. 

He looked up, confused. “Well, look around, Diego”, he threw his hand in the air. “Your brother was able to reclaim intact memories regarding Number Five. And this is what happened.”

Diego looked around, not quite following. “Okay, his room’s here.”

“Exactly!" Herb exclaimed with fresh enthusiasm. “Klaus was able to bring back a piece of your brother by a simple, recovered memory.” 

“You think if we remember enough, we could bring _him_ back too”, Vanya suddenly breathed out. “That’s the second time I’ve heard that today.”

Diego turned to look at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

She glanced at him quickly. “I found Harlan. Or he found me, to be more specific.”

“No shit”, he breathed. “Is he well?”

That boy had meant a lot to her. They'd shared a connection none of them had really understood, but it had been a deep one.

“More than fine, from what I could tell", Vanya smiled softly. “He lives by the sea with his dog. He's a telepath now."

"Excuse me?" Diego thought he hadn't heard right.

She ignored him. "Anyway, that's not the point. The point is he knew who the Handler was."

“What?” Luther blurted out, and Diego leaned forwards enthusiastically. 

Vanya shook her head dismissively. “He told me she wasn’t what we needed. That she was erased too, and Five didn’t know.”

“Huh”, Diego felt himself deflate. Those weren’t the news he’d been hoping for. 

“Harlan also said that no memory’s ever lost forever”, Vanya continued, sounding more determined. “And we shouldn’t underestimate the power of memories.” 

Diego’s fingers brushed over his bracelet again. 

His thoughts wandered.

What else had he forgotten?

“Smart man”, Herb hummed with a thoughtful smile. “And I agree with him. This room alone proves it.”

“I know a guy”, Allison suddenly said. She’d been quiet thus far, thoughtful. “A woman. Her name’s Melissa Cameron. She’s a psychotherapist specializing in repressed memories.”

“That might just work”, Herb nodded tightly. “Will you contact her?”

“Of course.”

Suddenly, a shadow in the window captured Diego’s attention. 

There was something in the sky. Flying. 

Squinting, the man took a few steps forwards. “What’s that?”

His siblings turned around, walking up to the window questioningly. 

“Oh”, Klaus breathed. “Oh, wow.”

“That’s not good”, Herb moaned in an anxious, thin voice. “That’s _really_ not good.”

“Is that what I think it is?” Allison swallowed. 

( _No fuckin' way_.)

Diego heard loud commotion from the streets, drawing his attention. His eyes widened at the sight. 

The sound of hundreds upon hundreds of horse hooves hitting the pavement filled their ears. Vanya pushed the window open, and stuck her head out. 

Herb peeked outside with clenched teeth. He was sweating. 

“What the fuck”, Diego breathed, nearly inaudibly, but Allison heard him. 

( _What the fuck_.)

“I’m pretty sure that’s George Washington”, she informed him matter-of-factly, pointing at the man riding a pure-white steed. 

The man’s head turned around in confusion, and he seemed to be losing control of the horse. 

He yelled something. 

“Why is George Washington and his cavalry in our street?” asked Klaus. “And, uh, I'm counting at least three pterodactyls in the sky.”

( _What the **fuck**._)

“Remember the floodgates?” Herb's tone was ominous. “They’re starting to leak.”

( _Fuck_.)


	8. Eye of the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments: Wow can’t wait to see what happens next  
> Me, the writer: Haha yeah me too
> 
> P.S. I made some edits to chapter seven concerning Harlan. I feel this way might better represent his character.  
> I also watched Hamilton, as promised - I've been quoting it for a long time, despite having not seen it. It really scratched some poetic itch I didn't even know I had. I do listen to my readers, and due to popular demand I’ve made George Washington and his right hand man a little bit more than just a short mention. You're welcome ;) Enjoy the chapter.

_Into this house we're born_

_Into this world we're thrown_

_Like a dog without a bone_

_An actor out on loan;_

_Riders on a storm._

  
  


* * *

“I’m going out there”, Diego declared, already heading towards the stairs. 

“To do what?” Allison threw her hands up in frustration. 

Was she being serious? The man stopped to stare at her in disbelief.

“Are you for real, right now, sis?” Diego raised his brows. “If you think I’m gonna miss an opportunity to shake hands with _George Washington_ , you really don’t know me.”

“For the love of God, Diego”, she groaned, balling her fists. 

“I’m going too”, Klaus stated, surprising not only Diego, but also everyone else in the room. “Not for _his_ _Excellency_. I want to see the dinosaurs.”

Allison ran a hand over her face. “Of course he wants to see the dinosaurs”, she murmured quietly, faintly shaking her head. 

Diego didn’t wait around. He heard the sounds of his siblings’ footsteps follow, accompanied by Allison shouting:

“ _Children_! I am reasoning with children!”

Damn him if he wasn’t going to salute the first American president, a founding father of their proud nation.

Outside, it was utter chaos. 

Diego was immediately overwhelmed by the shouting and the cursing and the panicking horses. 

There were _so many_ people. 

And he had to admit, they smelled like shit. Shit and sweat, to be exact. 

Cars were piling up on each end of the street, the middle having been taken by at least a hundred horsemen. 

“Out of my way”, he growled, pushing through the soldiers desperately trying to keep their steeds in line. 

No one seemed to pay him any attention. Everyone was too busy looking around with a stupid, dazed expression. 

( _I’m coming, Mr. President_.)

* * *

“So, what is this Herb?” Vanya turned to look at the man. She couldn’t keep the exhaustion out of her tone. 

“Uhm”, Herb seemingly woke up from his trance. He’d been staring outside, going paler by the minute. “Yes. This would be the result of the timeline collapsing. Shreds of the unravelling history are sucked into the vortex and scattered across different points in time. What we’re witnessing is still New York, with just small fractions of history leaking through.”

“Small?” questioned Luther. “Those are dinosaurs. That’s _George_ frickin’ _Washington_. I don’t know which is cooler.” 

“This is just the first stage”, Herb sounded like he might pass out. Or vomit. “Different timelines will start overlapping at some point. This has been happening throughout hundreds of points in time. The briefcases were the only way we had to stall the degradation, but looks like we’re running out of time.”

“What do we do now?” asked Luther.

Vanya squeezed her eyes shut.

( _This is how important Five was_.)

He was _so_ important, that time was quite literally breaking apart in his absence.

( _Too important._ )

Vanya glanced at Herb, who looked to be having severe difficulties pulling himself together. He was shaking, sweating, and his eyes were darting around, taking in the scene from outside. 

“On me, comrades!” someone yelled outside. 

“Yes, sir!”

Herb sighed shakily. “We go meet Dr. Cameron. Maybe restoring your memories will fix this mess.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Vanya raised her brows, the weight inside her chest growing heavier and heavier.

The man looked at her with his small, tired eyes. “Then God help us all.”

* * *

Mister George Washington, the General of the Continental Army, had been having an _excellent_ day. He’d been leading his victorious army through the streets of Manhattan, celebrating the fact that the Brits had finally been driven out of this beautiful city, and they’d been welcomed as heroes.

An excellent day indeed. That is, until, a strange rift consisting seemingly of pure-blue, outlandish electricity had swallowed him and half of his remaining soldiers, whipping them into this strange scenery. 

Odd machines and screens and lights all around had made him question his sanity. 

Because surely this wasn’t possible. Surely he was only dreaming. 

Perhaps he’d been mortally wounded without his knowledge, and this was merely trickery of the mind, his brain shutting down. 

Yes. Perhaps he’d been injured and simply hadn’t noticed. 

But these people. 

There were so many of them, and all their eyes were on him. So many loud sounds, threatening him and his comrades, he couldn’t bear it.

This was really happening, until proven otherwise, the General had decided. He seriously doubted his imagination was able to create a world like this. 

But right now, his soldiers depended on his example. His lead.

And so, the General had raised his sword and attempted to carry his voice above the deafening noise. 

“Follow your General, heroes of the _revolution_!"

His horse was an experienced warsteed, but the mare’s hooves were clicking on the hard ground with a growing, panicked pace, and he could see the whites of its eyes as it looked around in fear.

This was wrong. Dangerous. 

Whatever this place was, it was no place for him and his soldiers. 

The General lead the army through the crowded streets. The screeching of tires and loud beeping was filling the air all around them. 

And the stares. The endless _stares_ . These people, they looked nothing short of... _odd._

The General was sure he saw one maiden with completely _pink_ hair. 

( _What in tarnation?_ )

It was his responsibility to lead his army out of this place, whatever it was. Unnatural, to say the least. 

( _Is this Hell_?)

General Washington looked up as a loud whirring sound appeared above their heads. 

“What now?” he snarled, as a hump of metal hovered in the air, lowering steadily. 

Someone spoke into a loudspeaker, and they shone a bright light right onto him. The General shielded his face, and he could hear his soldiers loading their guns, aiming towards the unknown threat. 

“Drop the weapons!” the sound commanded. “Do not resist arrest!”

This deep in the enemy territory, the General considered his options. Perhaps it would be wisest to just surrender. 

He was about to command his army to obey, when someone rode his horse forwards and answered in his stead.

( _Hell’s bells, Hamilton._ )

“Why don’t you come and take them?” his right hand man yelled, like a defiant child.

Cursing God in his mind, the General ushered his horse forwards. 

“Resist this!” Hamilton shouted, followed by a loud bang as he fired his gun. The rest of the troops followed his example, and the sound of a hundred pistols firing flooded the General’s ears.

He’d lecture Hamilton later. Right now, they’d have to flee. Peaceful surrender was no longer an option, thanks to him.

For a long while, the General and his army advanced through the city, evading machines and shouting people attempting to approach them. At one point a battalion of masked men in full body armor appeared in their path. 

The general was quickly surrounded by his men, shielded as they took the bullets. 

Most of them were avenged. 

And now? He had stopped. They’d have to know where they were going. The horses were tired. They had no idea where they were.

“Hamilton”, he barked at the man riding behind him. “Have you any clue of what is happening?”

“None in the slightest, sir”, he replied tightly, drops of sweat falling down his forehead. “I don’t understand how we got here. It’s beyond anything I can think of.”

“Damn”, the General huffed. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Commander, sir!” 

His head turned towards the direction of the sound. A man was making his way through the soldiers shielding their general, hands raised towards the sky as a sign of peace.

The man was dressed in all black, which he found tasteless. He was also carrying a _brave_ amount of knives, making the general mildly worried. 

Worry disappeared, however, when the stranger saluted with an admirable posture and glistening eyes. 

“I’m a bit busy at the moment”, he told the man.

“Oh, I bet you are, sir”, he replied, voice cracking. “I also bet you’re all a bit confused right now.”

The General narrowed his eyes. He exchanged glances with Hamilton, whose interest seemed to have peaked as well.

“Can you explain why we’re here?” the General raised his chin. “Is this some _British trickery_?”

“No, no, no”, the man raised his hands in defense. “No, look. The timeline’s collapsing, that’s why you’re here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, this is the year 2019, and you’re not supposed to be here.”

Not a lot of things left the General speechless. 

And as serious the situation was, he found mild humor in the fact that his friend, the loud-mouthed Hamilton who never missed an opportunity to put a word in edgewise, was also dead silent.

( _Well, I’ll be damned. I lived to see the day he didn’t know what to say, either._ )

“Look, I just wanted to say that it’s a great honor to meet you, Mr. Washington, sir, and we’re doing the b-best we can to make this right”, the man stuttered, seemingly quite nervous. 

What a bizarre day. 

“Why are people trying to shoot us, then?” Hamilton finally opened his mouth, pointing somewhere behind them. 

The man stared at him. “Um, because you’ve got guns?”

Washington pondered. “So you’re saying that if we put them away, they’ll stop?”

“Well, you’re also kind of jamming the traffic, but that’s not really the biggest problem right now”, he shrugged. “But yeah, it would be a great start.”

The General slowly put down his pistol, and holstered it to his waist. It took a moment for Hamilton to follow his example, but eventually he did. 

“What’s your name, son?” the General asked, watching the man suspiciously. 

He cleared his throat. “Diego Hargreeves, at your service, sir. And let me just say, still, it’s a huge honor to meet you, Mr. General. Sir.”

The General’s attention was suddenly averted from exchanging pleasantries, when groups of armored soldiers appeared from behind the corner of the tall buildings surrounding him and his troops. 

Instinctively, the General’s hand flew up to the handle of his pistol. 

“Come quietly!” somebody yelled. 

Hargreeves, the man who’d approached them, began making his way through yelling something consisting of the lines ‘no’, and ‘stop’. 

The General couldn’t take this stranger’s word for it. He drew his weapon, aiming it defensively at the people who were trying to bark orders at him. 

If this was how he would go down, then so be it. 

Then, the ground shook. 

A loud shriek pierced the air, and the General _knew_ whatever that was, it wasn’t human. 

It seemed to have caught the attention of the soldiers currently aiming at him and his army as well. Their eyes fixated on the far end of the street. 

The ground shook again. 

“Mary, Mother of God”, Hamilton breathed. 

What General Washington saw next, did not compare to anything he’d so far seen in the battlefield. What appeared from behind that corner was no animal, no God’s creation. 

It was a _beast_.

A monster, rows of razor-sharp teeth bared, scale-covered skin shimmering in the sunlight. 

It shrieked again. 

“Diego, look, it’s a T-rex!” someone yelled jubilantly behind him. “This reminds me of the time I resurrected a raptor in dad’s office when we were fourteen, remember?”

The General couldn’t take his eyes off of it. 

“Take aim!” he barked, his voice cracking slightly. 

He didn’t need to ask twice. 

In unknown terrain, chased by an unknown enemy, faced with a creature who crawled out of the depths of Hell, and still his army followed his command. 

The General had never been prouder. 

* * *

  
  


“The Twin Towers are back”, announced Luther, who was scrolling through his phone as they drove through the chaos as well as they could. "Appeared out of thin air, apparently."

There were pile-ups everywhere. Apparently Commander George Washington and his cavalry had caused a little more ruckus than they’d thought. 

A pterodactyl screeched somewhere in the distance. 

“What a day to be alive”, Allison mumbled, mostly to herself. 

They’d gotten only about two miles towards Manhattan, when she gave up. “We’ll have to walk from here”, she declared, but received no complaints from neither Herb nor Luther.

“So, how do you know this therapist?” her brother asked, putting away his phone. 

“I met her through work”, Allison told him, fastening her pace. “Dr. Cameron was my co-star’s therapist. We had a few drinks, talked about how men are rats. Really bonded. She moved here from Fort Lauderdale a few years back, when her ex tried to murder her.”

“Oh.”

They said nothing more for the rest of the trip. Dr. Cameron’s office was luckily quite close, and Allison had been there before. 

“Do you think she’s even still here?” asked Herb nervously. “I mean, the city’s kind of in a state of chaos and panic.”

“She told me she’s already here”, Allison pointed out. “And she’s not crazy enough to go out there right now.”

They made it inside, and stepped into the elevator. The office was in the eleventh floor. 

“So, what if our brains explode when we try to remember Five?” asked Luther nervously, breaking the silence. “I remember the episode I got when trying to think about the paradox.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that anymore”, Herb waved his hand in disinterest. “The laws of time are on the brink of total annihilation, anyway.”

Luther left it at that. 

Allison cleared her throat, stepping out of the elevator. She knocked on the door which read _Dr. Melissa Cameron._

“W-who is it?” a muffled, shaky voice asked from the other side. “Aliens? Jesus?”

“Just Allison”, she sighed tiredly. 

The door opened slowly. 

Dr. Cameron was a short, middle-aged woman with brown-rimmed glasses. The lenses had so much prescription, that they made her paranoid, green eyes look smaller than they were.

“Hi, Melissa”, she forced a smile, despite the grave situation they were in. “May we come in?”

“No offense, Allison, but have you looked out the window today?” she hissed, gripping the edge of the door with white knuckles. “Or read the news?”

“Yep”, she nodded. “And we’re trying to put a stop to it. Will you help us?”

The doctor’s hand fell. 

She eyed at the two men behind her suspiciously. “Who are they?”

“My brother, Luther”, Allison nodded to her right, and the gigantic man gave Dr. Cameron a small, shy wave. “And that's Herb. A family friend... or something.”

Herb flashed a tight smile. 

“Come in”, Dr. Cameron finally grunted, opening the door and stepping out of their way. 

“Thank you”, Allison mouthed and walked inside. 

* * *

“Look, I know you were in the Umbrella thing, but isn’t this sort of, I don’t know”, Dr. Cameron babbled, “the _government’s_ job?”

Luther cleared his throat. “The government has no idea what’s happening. We do. And we may be able to stop it, if you help us.”

“Me”, Cameron blinked in disbelief. “You want _my_ help.”

Herb stepped in, taking off his hat. “Allison has told me you specialize in repressed memories”, he raised a brow. 

The doctor stared at him for a moment, blowing a few strayed, ginger strands of hair out of her face. “Correct.”

“There’s someone we need to remember”, Allison explained. “Our brother, Five. Him and a few other time travellers have been erased from existence, and it’s causing history to collapse.”

“We’re talking end of time itself”, Herb added grimly. 

“Okay, this is _way_ above my paygrade”, Cameron looked concerningly pale, and Luther gently guided her to sit down. 

“You’re our only hope”, Allison leaned forwards, a pleading look in her eye. “Please.”

“Right now, the fate of the world rests on _your_ shoulders”, Luther added, thinking it might further encourage her to aid them. However, as she began to tremble under his touch, and he earned himself a death-glare from Allison, he realized this might have been the wrong move. 

To Luther’s surprise, Cameron suddenly took in a quick, deep breath and nodded. “Okay. _Okay_. This is crazy, but okay.”

He let out a breath he’d been holding.

“Thank God”, Luther huffed. “Okay, where do we start? Do I go lie down on the couch, or…?”

Cameron squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head with a grimace. “No, that’s not… In normal circumstances it can take up to six months to make even slight progress towards uncovering a repressed memory.”

“Okay, what can you do with…” Herb glanced at his wristwatch nervously, then out from the window, then back at his watch, “...Twenty hours?”

Cameron had frozen still. She swallowed. 

“Theoretically, there are other options”, she said with a wavering voice. 

Luther raised his brows expectantly. 

“Um, by having the subject enter a trance-like state”, the doctor continued after clearing her throat. Allison pushed a steaming cup of tea to her hands, and she took a hefty slurp. “Hypnotic regression can be achieved through many ways, but I’m thinking sensory deprivation could work here.”

“You’re a hypnotist?” Allison raised her brows curiously. 

“Not really, no”, Cameron replied quickly, pursing her lips. 

“Okay”, Luther nodded, clapping his hands together. Things were finally progressing, actually going somewhere. “What do we do?”

Cameron brought the cup of tea back up to her lips, her small hand trembling. 

“Well”, she breathed out. “I know a place or two with a sensory deprivation tank. We’ll also need airpods and earmuffs, so that my voice can be the only thing you’ll be able to hear.”

“Anything else?” Luther asked. This sounded way too easy. “Nothing else?”

“No, but I can’t promise you this will work”, Cameron warned. “This is… _extremely_ experimental.”

“It’ll do”, Herb convinced her. “Let’s get the others. What’s the address?”

* * *

“Sorry, had to fight off a t-rex with George Washington”, Diego panted as he showed up through the doors of the spa.

The wellness spa _Lift_ was devoid of all staff and customers, probably having fled outside. There was mass panic in the streets, and Diego couldn’t blame them. 

“That’s great, Diego”, Luther hurriedly said. “Now, come over.”

( _Did he even hear me?_ )

“What’s this?” he questioned suspiciously, eyeing at the pure-white, egg-shaped tank seemingly submerged into the floor. 

The red-haired chick who Diego assumed was Dr. Cameron pressed a button on the side, and his eyes widened as the damn egg opened up to reveal a small swimming pool inside. 

“This is a sensory deprivation chamber”, she explained. “And we’ll use it to try and access the memories buried deep inside your subconsciousness.”

“That sounds so fun”, Klaus sighed blissfully. “Can I go first?”

“I’m Number One”, Luther grunted defensively. “I go first. We go in order, okay?”

Diego almost groaned aloud. This shit again?

He’d already thought Luther had given up with the number thing, but apparently not. 

“We better start right away”, warned Herb. “We don’t know what’s going to happen next. This whole building could disappear and turn into a prehistoric forest for all we know.”

“Great”, Diego said with a monotone voice.

Quite honestly, there was very little that could faze him anymore. Besides, he’d met George Washington today, and it had been a moment he’d cherish for the rest of his weary life. 

“Is everyone here?” Dr. Cameron asked Allison, who gave her an affirmative nod. “Right then. You’ll go in one by one, and I’m guiding the session through these.”

She showed them a set of airpods resting on her palm. She then grabbed a pair of earmuffs. “These will protect them from getting wet. The only sound you’ll hear is my voice.”

Dr. Cameron glanced towards the tank. “The water inside is body-temperature, and once the lid closes. It’s sound- and light-proof.”

Diego didn’t really get claustrophobic, but the thought of it still made him uncomfortable. 

And yet, he couldn’t wait to get inside. He had to do this, if they were to save the world. 

And their brother. 

And the person who’d given Diego that bracelet.

“Okay, we’re all set”, Dr. Cameron confirmed, but Diego heard the slight hint of hesitation in her tone. “Let’s get started.”

This better work, thought Diego, as he peered outside through the blinds. They were running out of time.


	9. My Brother's Keeper

_I could recognize him by_

_touch alone, by smell;_

_I would know him blind,_

_by the way his breaths came_

_and his feet struck the earth._

_I would know him in death,_

_and at the end of the world._

  
  


* * *

  
  


“We’ll be right outside”, Allison mouthed, her eyes nervously canvassing Luther as he laid down inside the vat. 

To say he wasn’t nervous at all would have been a lie. He was by no means a small man, and _barely_ fit inside the floating tank. 

Luther shuddered as his flushed skin touched the water. He knew he’d get used to it quickly. He gave a slight nod to Dr. Cameron, who then closed the lid. 

Luther was left surrounded by total and complete darkness.

That, and dead silence. 

Thank God there was a microphone inside the tank, so he could at least ask questions and tell them to let him out if he couldn't take it.

He didn't even know what to expect.

Luther was determined, though. He wasn’t going to give up until he remembered his brother again. 

“Should I close my eyes?” he asked. It was strange - not being able to hear his own voice when he talked. 

“You shouldn’t, you might fall asleep”, Cameron’s voice came from inside the airpods. “I need you to relax, but to stay conscious.”

It didn’t really feel like much - and that, he supposed, was probably the point. It was pleasantly warm inside the tank, and the air smelled very similar to that of the smell of hospitals.

It took forever for Luther to hear Cameron’s voice again. He’d almost fallen asleep, lulled by the gentle bed of water.

“Luther”, Cameron’s voice was quiet. Soft. “I’m going to help you remember.”

( _Remember what you lost._ )

“Think about him.”

Luther squeezed his eyes shut. His heart beat faster.

( _Think_.)

“Luther, you need to _think_. Concentrate.” 

( _Remember._ )

“Calm down.”

Luther hadn’t even realized his elevated pulse, his labored breathing.

His head didn’t feel right. 

“Focus on Five.”

( _Five_.)

A dismayed gasp escaped his chest, leaving him breathless for a moment. 

The darkness unraveled.

There was a staircase in front of him. He heard noises. 

The world was yellow with sunlight, and all the colors around him felt washed out. Like the paint they’d been dyed with was watered down too much. 

Luther blinked, bewildered. 

The staircase was calling to him. Climb us, the stairs said.

But he was so tired.

“Luther, do not fall asleep”, a voice beckoned him. “Don’t close your eyes.”

( _Keep your eyes open_.)

He did. 

Luther walked up the stairs, every step heavier than the other. Was he made of rocks?

He stopped at the top. 

He saw Five’s room, the door was open, but he wasn’t inside. 

“ _It waves me still. Go on, I'll follow thee.”_ Luther took notice to the small, giggly voices coming from Ben’s room. 

He knew that voice, as much as it’s owner was changing it to sound pompous and lower than it actually was. 

He heard laughter. “ _You shall not go, my lord_.”

( _Ben._ )

Luther stood behind the closed door, counting his breaths. 

( _Inhale. Exhale_.)

“ _Hold off yours hands._ ”

His hand hovered over the doorknob.

“ _Be ruled; you shall not go_!”

( _Klaus.)_

More laughter.

( _Me_.)

“ _Fall silent, scoundrel”,_ someone addressed his laughter, trying his very best to sound angry and serious, but the lightness in his tone failed him. 

Luther opened the door. He saw his younger self, lying on Ben’s bed on his stomach, laughter-induced tears glimmering in the corners of his eyes. 

Ben was leaning on his chair, with a ragged and worn book in his hand. Klaus was leaning over his shoulder, so much taller than their little Ben, grinning from ear to ear. 

“ _My fate cries out, and makes each petty artery in this body, as hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve_ ”, Luther’s eyes turned towards the person sitting on top of stacked pillows on the floor, a book of his own in his hand. 

He was so small, fragile. Reminded Luther of a porcelain doll.

Long lashes fluttered as his eyes moved with the text.

( _Five.)_

So young. So _himself_.

A smile kept on tugging at the boy’s lips, but he did a good job at staying in character, unlike the others. “ _Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen_.”

_“Stop it, I can’t take it anymore_ ”, the young Luther rolled on the bed, out of breath. “ _My stomach hurts so bad_.”

“ _Shush, Luther_ ”, Klaus snorted. “ _You’re witnessing art here._ ”

“Luther?”

He shook his head in confusion. The memory dissipated into thin air, leaving him with nothing but darkness. 

This was _wrong._

“Luther!”

( _The doctor_.)

“Keep going. Find another memory.”

Luther stared ahead. He saw nothing. 

This was wrong. 

His body felt… nothing. 

He couldn’t feel anything, and all he heard was the blood rushing inside his ears, heart beating so loud he thought it might break out of his chest. 

“Luther, you’re okay!”

( _Allison.)_

“Just take a deep breath, okay?”

Her voice was music to his ears. Luther forced his tense muscles to relax.

“You’re okay. Think about Five.”

(... _Five_.)

“ _Nobody leaves until we figure this out_.”

(His fingers wrapped around the boy’s collar, and he lifted the small weight effortlessly out of his way.)

“ _Luther, I’m gonna need you to help me get through this one, alright?”_

(A ghost of a touch on his left arm.)

“ _You know, you’re a terrible liar, Luther. You’re a worse liar than you are a spotter.”_

( _Five_.)

“ _Good to see you too, Luther.”_

( _Five.)_

_“Luther wait! We have to find the others, because the world ends again in ten days.”_

_(Five!)_

_"Stop it! Just... stop it."  
_

_(_ **_Five_ ** _-_ _)_

Luther gasped for air, his head exploding with color and sound and pictures flashing past his unseeing eyes, so fast he barely had the time to see them, his long-lost brother’s voice echoing in his ears, repeating every single thing Luther had ever heard him say. 

He remembered what it had felt like. Forgetting.

He remembered the sound of Five’s laughter. 

It had been nearly two decades since he heard it last, but he remembered.

He _remembered_.

It was too much.

He couldn’t breathe.

* * *

“Find him in any memory”, Dr. Cameron’s voice spoke. “Good or bad, doesn't matter.”

Diego took a steadying breath. 

Luther had barely said a word since he’d come out of the water. He’d just locked himself into a room and gotten changed, eyes haunted by something none of them could understand. 

Darkness swallowed him. 

All he heard was the doctor’s voice, occasionally whispering into his ear. 

( _Good or bad_.)

Diego thought about him. He balled his fists under the water, eyes erratically searching for any sign of light inside the darkness. 

How long had it been?

“Diego. Focus, now.”

Why did her voice sound like dad’s?

“ _Do it again, and do it better! You need to be_ **_perfect_ ** _!”_

_(Perfect.)_

Diego’s head rang with the weight of the word, and he bit his lip. 

“ _Again, Number Two!”_

He tasted blood.

( _Number Two_.)

“ _You can rest once you get it right!”_

His eyes burned. 

“ _Stop it! Let him go, already!”_

That was not dad’s voice.

( _Five_.)

Diego could see him. Almost. Dad’s shadow loomed over the little boy he knew to be himself, sweaty and pale, tired of holding his breath, wrists making weird clicking sounds from all the knives he’d been throwing. 

“ _Number Five, you should not be in here. I will not stand for-”_

_“Enough, already! You’re insane, look at him!”_

Diego’s eyes hurt so _goddamn_ much. 

Five’s smudgy frame sharpened around the edges.

( _He’s so small._ )

So small, bony hands crossed across his chest, stick-figure legs in a steady stance. He stood in front of the shivering mess that was his brother.

Dad’s shadow swallowed him, but Five’s posture did not change. He didn’t waver in front of their father’s wrath. 

He looked him back in the eye without a blink.

“ _You may go, Number Two_.”

Diego saw his younger self stare at his father in disbelief, then shifted his gaze, mouth hanging open, towards his brother. Five glanced over his shoulder, and nodded faintly towards him. 

“ _It’s okay, Diego.”_

A sob ripped through his chest, rattling his ribs.

A crushing weight was pushing him down. 

Was he underwater?

“ _Diego? Try not to do anything too stupid.”_

Smug bastard.

Fuck, Diego missed him. 

Missed him so much he thought he might burst open and die.

Somebody chuckled. 

Diego turned his head. It was a woman. 

A flash of blue. The hem of a dress.

“ _Ah, no, honey. I’m the man here.”_

Stars flowered in her fiery eyes. Wisps of ebony hair swayed as she bent her neck back, overtaken by their wild dance.

And just like that, the ballroom was empty of everyone else. She was looking right through him, and he was hers to control.

Him and her, that had been enough. 

( _Lila_.)

Diego choked out her name like a prayer.

His Lila.

Her name tasted like salt and iron inside her mouth.

His mantra turned feverish, and his skull pounded with the weight of all that had been buried inside. 

“Diego!” someone yelled at him.

“ _Because I’m somewhat of a lone wolf myself.”_

He was crying. 

“ _Hi! I’m his loving brother.”_

“ _Is it okay that I don’t hate you like I hate most people?”_

He was screaming. 

_“Oh, thank God. You know me. Of course you know me, I’m just being… I’m just being ridiculous. I mean, why would everyone be forgetting everything, huh? That wouldn’t really make any sense, now would it-”_

( _No, **please** ,_ _I’m sorry_ - _!)_

_“Are you in some kind of trouble?”_

_“Why don’t you start by telling us your name.”_

The light behind Five's eyes disappeared, as something inside of him died with those words.

( _I’M_ **_SORRY_ ** _!_ )

“ _Diego, I- We should-”_

“ _You know the door was unlocked.”_

_“Maybe Daddy finally came to say ‘I love you’.”_

_“Hey! It’s ‘öga för öga’, you idiots. Swedish for an eye for an eye.”_

_“Everybody lies, Diego, and I was only lying to protect you.”_

He was drowning.

_Youalmostgotkilledlastnighttakeadayoffguardmybrotherisplottingasescapethebarsofhisroomhavebeenshaveddown-_

  
  


* * *

Allison shuddered as she thought back at what Diego’s voice had sounded like. Her brother had pounded his fist against the closed hatch. 

“Let me out”, he’d begged with a ragged voice.

The look in his eye…

Allison couldn’t get it out of his head. 

Diego was strong, he wasn’t fazed by a lot of things. He’d seen a lot, and even though their dad had always had a way of getting under his skin, this was not him.

This wasn't Diego. He’d emerged from the tank, shaking like a leaf, gripping at his wet mop of hair, eyes glazed over and unseeing. 

“He’s being buried under all the memories”, Cameron had said. "I can only imagine. It's overwhelming him."

Diego was resting now. Klaus and Vanya were with him.

“This isn’t working”, Allison shook her head.

“It’s the only chance we’ve got, Allison”, the doctor said quietly. “That’s what you told me.”

She was right.

God _damn_ it, she was right. 

“Lila Pitts.”

Allison jumped, glancing over his shoulder. Diego was standing in the doorway, pale as a sheet.

“Five, the Handler, and Lila Pitts”, he stated, louder. “Those are the people we forgot. The people that were erased.”

“I remember”, Luther hummed quietly. He’d been staring at the floor for the past hour, but seemed to have snapped out of whatever thoughts were running through his head. “She’s the Handler’s daughter. I remember them both.”

Diego nodded faintly.

“Allison”, Dr. Cameron said quietly. 

“I know.”

It was her turn.

“I’ll try and guide you through your memories”, Cameron’s voice spoke directly into her ear. “One by one, but first, you need to relax and let go of all thought.”

Right. Should be easy enough.

As an actor, Allison was used to breathing exercises.

That should work fine. 

She exhaled until her lungs were empty of all air. 

A few seconds later, she inhaled again. 

Floating there, Allison felt absolutely weightless.

( _In. Out_.)

This was what it felt like to be blind, she thought. 

( _In. Out_.)

Quite frankly, it was terrifying. 

( _In. Out_.) 

“Listen to my voice.”

( _In. Out._ )

“Picture yourself back in drama school”, Cameron’s voice whispered in her ear. “Look at the lockers. There's a memory buried in each locker.”

Allison saw the familiar, old hallway in front of her eyes. She blinked.

It had been so long, since she’d walked on these corridors. 

She smiled. So long, indeed.

( _Look how far you’ve come_.)

“Open the first locker.”

Allison turned her head, and looked at the chipped, old paint covering the old lockers. She still remembered the one that used to be hers. 

The woman grabbed the handle, and turned. 

She was swallowed by darkness. 

Allison’s heart skipped a beat, but then the silence and the darkness was broken by a lonely voice.

It was her own. 

She was crying. 

Allison’s room was softly lit. She must’ve been only twelve years old. Maybe thirteen. She was sitting in front of her mirror, eyes red and glistened with tears. 

Her small shoulders were heavy with the invisible weight. 

An electric sound, so familiar and yet so distant in her head, came from somewhere behind her. 

Allison’s eyes widened, as he walked past her and sat next to the little girl sitting on the floor. 

“Hey”, his voice was soft. Almost a whisper.

( _Oh_ , _Five_.)

Her young self did not answer, but gave a broken glance in his direction. Five bit his lip thoughtfully, then placed his hand on her back.

“You know he was just some random asshole, right?” Five cleared his throat. “A mean bastard, who either doesn’t know what he’s talking about, or doesn’t give a shit about the effect his words might have.”

Little Allison sniffled pathetically. 

(“ _Ms. Rumor! Have you heard about the dangers of obesity? It can be especially harming to children_ -”)

“I’m not fat!” she burst out crying, and Five wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders. 

“Of course you’re not”, he told her.

Allison swallowed, overtaken by the memory. Some journalist had taken notice of the fact that she was hitting puberty and developing curves, and had thought it to be his right to make her feel bad about herself. 

The only one she’d ever compared herself to was Vanya, who’d always been bony and small. 

Five turned the mirror away from them, as he saw her passingly glance at it every few seconds. 

“Look, Allison”, Five grabbed her shoulder, and waited until she looked at him. “You’re beautiful. You’re not fat. You won’t fix anything by staring into the mirror and looking for flaws for you to change.”

“You don’t get it!” she suddenly screeched. “You’re a _boy_!”

Five wasn’t fazed by it, not in the slightest. “You know, a few weeks back, I saw Ben about to rip up one of the drawings he’d just made.”

The young Allison looked at him carefully. She was listening. 

“I stopped him”, Five continued, raising his chin. “He told me that he’d been looking at it for a while and it looked all weird to him, and he thought it was a complete failure. To me, it looked gorgeous.”

( _Oh, Five_.)

Allison’s chest bloomed with love towards that little boy. 

That selfless little boy.

“You look at something you’ve been working on for a long time, you start to notice flaws that aren’t even there”, he said, eyes following a tear that rolled down the girl’s cheek. “He’d spent too much time looking at everything bad in it that soon it was all he could see. Then I came in, and I thought it was brilliant.”

Five smiled. “See what I’m getting at? You’re our star, Allison. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

A wet chuckle escaped the little girl’s chest.

“Wanna come watch a movie with me and Ben?”

Her face popped up, and she stroked the tears off her puffy eyes. “Can I pick?”

A moment of hesitation passed across Five’s face, and he grimaced for a second or two. Allison raised her brows.

“...Fine, you can pick. Come on.”

Allison squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, bless him.

“I remember”, she whispered breathily. 

“Look for another memory”, replied the doctor. “Open another locker.”

“Okay”, she murmured, finding herself back in the lonely, dark corridor. 

So many memories. The hallway was full of them. Endless rows of lockers, bottled moments, tears she didn’t remember weeping, words she didn't remember saying. 

Her, Five and Vanya, sitting in his room, studying for a test he knew their dad was going to have them take. 

That’s right, Allison smiled to herself, tasting the salt of her tears. They’d always studied together, the three of them. 

Allison and Five had been the best when it came to academic success, and they’d both excelled at languages. Ben had been close behind them. 

Five had been the genius, though, at times even challenging dad with his mathematical findings.

( _In. Out._ )

She smiled a lopsided, teary smile.

( _I found you, Five._ )

She found him, buried inside her heart. 

Allison saw the two of them and Diego help Grace carve pumpkins. Sneak out at night with Klaus to go for a secret smoke around the corner when they were twelve. 

She saw Five save her life from a gunned man who’d snuck up behind her, wrapping his grimy hands around her throat. Five had materialized out of thin air, kicked the man to the shin, and promptly struck one of Diego’s knives into his shoulder.

He’d grabbed her hand and pulled her away as she was choking and coughing, and tears had veiled her eyes from seeing ahead. 

She saw him take her hand. She saw him laugh with her. She saw him cry with her. She saw him-

“ _I want to time travel!”_

The day they lost him. 

Allison shook her head in denial, opening another locker. She heard Cameron’s voice again, but it was incomprehensible. 

She didn’t understand.

It didn’t matter. It was unimportant.

No, what mattered was that she saw Five’s face staring right back at her. 

His face was as clear as day.

His green eyes were wide and bright and glazed over.

He was upset. But why?

“ _Who are you_?”

_(Oh, no.)_

Allison gasped for air. 

“ _How did you get here?_ ”

( _No, **no** , anything but this. No- _)

That was her voice. 

She watched the confusion and panic build up inside her brother, all so clear from the look in his eyes - how had she not seen that before-?

All color ran out of his face, leaving him pale as snow. 

Five’s voice trembled. “ _Guys, you can stop with the prank, it’s clearly not making me laugh.”_

Why did it feel like someone was tightening a knot around her heart?

( _“Hey kid, you alright?_ ”)

Why weren't her lungs working?

(“ _Stop it… just, stop it._ ”)

Why did it feel like she was screaming, when all was completely silent?

There was a flash of blue.

( _Don’t go_ -)

Too late.

Allison was blinded by the light flooding inside, lifting her from the darkness she’d been floating in. Someone grabbed the hand she hadn’t even realized she’d reached out. 

She had tried to grab Five’s shoulder, to make him stay-

But he wasn’t here.

Someone wrapped a towel around her shoulders.

She had barely just climbed out of the tank, when it happened. 

Her ears started ringing, a strange and alien pressure inside her head. 

There was thunder in the air. 

Maybe… maybe it was Five. 

“He’s more real than ever”, Luther insisted. “It could be him.”

He was arguing with Herb. Allison wasn’t listening. 

It all happened in a blink of an eye. In one single breath. In a mere beat of a heart.

Ash and snow fell from the sky.

The world was swallowed by ice and fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was difficult to write.  
> Cried a little. Listened the Les Mis soundtrack a few times. Ate lime-raspberry ice cream. Rewatched a few Office episodes. Got my shit together and finished this thing.  
> So yeah, buckle up for the grand finale.


	10. Update

Hey everyone. Sorry, not the update you were all expecting, but I am filling you guys in on the fact that my Covid battle has taken a nasty turn and it caused the plateau with the fic.

I've been spending a lot of time at the hospital. Met a lot of doctors. My lungs are really not doing great, and the doctors don't know how to help. We've tried all kinds of different medications but nothing's helping. The meds are making me drowzy, and I've had serious issues focusing on anything. 

Overall the situation's made me really depressed. I've been sick nearly two months now and there's no end in sight. The worst part? There's no medicine, nothing to help me. All I can do is endure and pray I won't have breathing problems and chronic cough for the rest of my life. 

Thanks for your commitment to my work. I've written 50% of the final chapter, and once I find the energy to finish it I will.

In the meanwhile, I'm thankful for Your understanding.


	11. End of Time

_The universe is big._

_It's vast and complicated and ridiculous._

_And sometimes, very rarely,_

_impossible things just happen_

_and we call them miracles._

* * *

Lila opened her eyes. 

It was dark at first, in the empty house she knew so well. 

She was lying on the floor of her parents’ house, right on the spot where she’d seen them killed. 

And the woman knew something was wrong. 

She knew it, because she remembered what she did. 

( _Oh, no_.)

“Fuck”, she spat out in frustration. 

( _What have I done_?)

“Stupid”, Lila breathed, stumbling to her feet. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

Where was she anyway?

Perhaps it was Heaven - if she was even allowed inside. 

No. Hell, then. 

It didn’t matter. What mattered that she’d royally screwed up, and she’d brought this upon herself. 

Lila knew she never should’ve lost control. 

She sat down, closed her eyes. 

She had spent the last ten years of her life sliding herself into her parents’ lives. She watched them meet, watched them fall in love, became their friend. 

Went to the beach with them. Helped them with their studies. Got herself a partner for a few years. 

It didn’t last. Her relationships never really did.

And who’s fault was that?

Lila let out a shuddering breath, a hot tear rolling down her cheek. She wiped it off quickly, enraged. 

Why did she keep screwing up?

She hadn’t been able to save them. 

After her mother had been pregnant with the baby that would grow up to be _her_ , she’d pulled away from them. Visited less and less. 

But at least Lila had gotten to know them. She didn’t mean to go back there.

_She couldn’t help herself._

Lila had seen Five staring down at her weeping, begging parents, squirming on the floor. Those people, those _good_ people, did not deserve this. 

There was nothing behind Five’s eyes. No emotion. 

Cold. 

Lila couldn’t accept it. She just couldn’t - there was a time she may have been capable of forgiving him, but that person was long gone.

Lila’s legs had moved on instinct. She’d attacked Five. She hadn't meant to _kill_ him.

Lila barely remembered what had happened next. 

The world had been swallowed by blue. The thick scent of smoke and lightning was still in her nostrils. 

The realization that she might have broken time for good began to dawn on her. 

The Handler. Five. Her. 

All three of them were so intimately involved with keeping the timeline together, that a paradox of such magnitude would surely...

Lila closed her eyes in shame. 

_I screwed up._

  
  


* * *

The first thought in Klaus’ head was that he must’ve been dead. 

The timeline finally went kaboom, and they were all goners. Goodbye world, and all that. 

After a few more moments passed, Klaus came to the realization that he could, in fact, move his toes. And then his fingers. 

And eventually, he had managed to gather enough strength to pry his eyes open. 

There was dust in Klaus’ hair, eyes, mouth, and he coughed pathetically, its taste stagnant on his tongue. 

“Hello?” he wheezed, eyes watering. 

_What happened?_

“Vanny?” Klaus choked, grabbing his sister’s shoulder. She was lying on the ground, face down, surrounded by rubble. 

The whole building had collapsed on them. 

“Klaus?” someone showed up, stumbling, from the darkness. 

Diego. There was a bleeding gash in his forehead and he walked with a limp, but otherwise seemed fine. 

Vanya moaned as she came to, her fragile hands instantly flying up to hold her head. 

“I’m here”, Klaus tried to calm her but wasn’t sure if she heard him. 

“What happened?” Diego’s eyes were wide open, darting around the room. 

It was difficult to see from the midst of the dust and grime, but Klaus could tell that all that was left of the spa was a sea of rubble. 

“I haven’t a clue”, he breathed. “Where’s Luther? And Allison?”

Diego glanced over his shoulder. A mountain of rubble was separating them from the space where the sensory deprivation tank was located. 

“We need to get out of here”, Diego coughed. “Vanya?”

He dropped to his knees, squeezing his sister’s shoulder. Klaus’ heart ached from the small cry that escaped her lips. 

“What-” she murmured, her eyes finally fluttering open. “What?”

“We don’t know, but we need to get out of here”, Diego growled. 

Klaus heard screaming outside. 

He was alarmed by Vanya suddenly standing up, and staggering on her feet. Her nose was bleeding, and she probably had a severe concussion based on her disorientation and obvious bump to the head, but Klaus was surprised to see that her eyes turned an angry shade of white. 

Her fragile hands directed a blast of energy at the nearest wall, completely obliterating it from existence. 

Vanya let out a breath, her eyes dimming. 

“Thanks, Vanny”, Klaus swallowed, leading her outside. 

The three of them stepped out and froze still in stunned silence. 

“Motherfucksticks”, he finally said, eyes taking in the terrifying scene. 

Annihilation. 

That was the only way Klaus could describe it. 

Apocalyptic, even, he thought hysterically.

The wind was hot on his face.

Their city had been split in two, and they were right in the middle of the crossing point. Under their feet, the ground was covered by a white layer of ash and dust and rubble.

Flakes of ash flowed down from the sky. The stench of burning made his throat tickle in discomfort. 

A clear, blackened line split the street in two, and it carried on as far as Klaus’ eye could see. The ground was under a soft layer of snow and ice. Frost flowered over every collapsed building, every twisted lamppost, every blade of grass. 

Buildings were on fire. People were scrambling through the streets in panic. A mother was cradling her baby, who had a bleeding wound in his small head. 

The dust was everywhere. Not a single building had been spared from the annihilation. 

The overwhelming feeling of unrestful death was floating in the air like a heavy blanket, and he could already see the ghosts emerging from amidst the fallen buildings. 

For once, Klaus was at a loss for words. 

“We have to find the others”, Vanya finally hummed. She was paler than usual, and swaying slightly on her feet. 

“Wait”, Diego raised his hand. “Can you hear that?”

Klaus’ brows popped up. 

From amidst the distant wailing, he heard a feeble voice calling out.

Like it was coming from underground. 

Diego was the first one to move. He darted towards the pile of rubble that had once been the wellness spa, trying to find an opening to the side of the room where the sensory deprivation tank had been in. 

“Vanya?” he asked, dark eyes flickering over towards their sister. 

“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t-” Klaus began, eyeing at her with pity. She had a concussion, no question about it. 

“It’s okay”, Vanya stopped him and took a wavering step forward. Diego retreated from her path, and from what Klaus could tell, he was ready to grab her the minute it looked like she might collapse. 

Their sister’s pallor turned snowy white, and her soft-brown eyes began to quicksilver. 

A loud groaning of metal made Klaus cover his ears with a wince. Vanya’s hands were stretched outwards, and the invisible power radiating from her was moving the rubble out of their way. Pieces of the floor, walls, and roof were slithering away to the side. 

Klaus’ eyes widened as he saw the entire floor of the building had caved in. 

“They’re down there”, he breathed in realization, glaring into the gaping hole on the ground. What had once been the basement of the wellness spa, could now be the grave of Allison, Luther and Dr. Cameron. 

There was a hand peeking out from beneath one chunk of wall. 

“Over there!” Diego had spotted it first. Vanya waved her with determination, and the rubble was lifted.

Dr. Cameron lay there, face down, limbs twisted at odd angles. 

Klaus didn’t need to roll her over to know she was dead.

He knew death all too well. 

“Oh, God”, Diego breathed, his head dropping. 

Klaus found his voice. “Luther? Allison?” 

A muffled, shifting sound came from underneath them. 

“They’re buried under”, he forced out.

“Step aside”, Vanya’s voice echoed unnaturally, and the cold look in her silver eyes still made shivers run down his spine. 

“Wait, don’t”, Diego barked out. “If they’re buried under there, you could accidentally crush them by moving the rubble around.”

Vanya’s eyes dimmed down, and her skin slowly returned to normal. She nodded reluctantly. 

“What do we do?” Klaus swallowed nervously. 

Diego knelt down, pressing his ear against the dust-covered surface. “I can hear something”, he claimed with a dry throat. 

Klaus cupped his hands around his mouth. “Allison?” he screamed. “Luther!”

To their surprise, they heard a barely audible reply. It was so muffled Klaus couldn’t even tell which one’s voice it was. 

“Okay, here’s what we do”, Diego cleared his throat, raising his head. His eyes were red-rimmed from both tears from what happened earlier, and the dust that was invading them, but the look in them was nothing short of absolutely determined. 

“We need to dig them out slowly, so Vanya”, Diego turned his gaze towards the frail woman. “You’re going to have to be very careful. Me and Klaus will help dig if we can.”

“If you feel like you’re gonna pass out, you should, ya know”, Klaus quickly added. “Stop.”

Vanya seemed like she’d barely heard him, nodding to Diego instead. “I can do it.”

She took a deep breath, slowly kneeling to the floor. Her eyes fluttered shut. 

For a moment it was perfectly quiet. When Vanya began glowing again, a low rumble thundered from the earth. 

Her power never ceased to amaze Klaus. There she was, that frail, quiet girl, their _sister._

Klaus was so proud of her. 

The broken pieces of the building were slowly lifted aside. 

“How deep do you think they are?” asked Diego nervously. 

His brother shrugged. “Never deep enough for us to not find them.”

Klaus felt his brother’s eyes on him.

Suddenly, Vanya swayed to her side, staggering as she tried to regain balance. Alarm bells went off in Klaus’ head as he noticed she had blood dripping from her nose. 

Diego caught her. 

“Vanya?” Klaus asked with a thin voice, grabbing her ice-cold hand. Her silvery eyes turned back to their normal, cocoa color, and they looked thoroughly exhausted. 

“She can’t keep going”, Diego muttered, cursing with a gravelly voice. 

“I can do it”, Vanya insisted, pushing away the hands hovering over her. 

“Let me try something first”, Klaus swallowed. The thought had been floating around in the back of his mind for a while now. He ignored the questioning looks from his siblings, focusing instead on the veil of death that hung over the city. 

It was suffocating, letting it all in. He’d been keeping the stench of death successfully at bay so far, but now Klaus let it in. 

Death was attracted to him like a moth to a flame.

It just wouldn’t leave him alone. 

Klaus’ powers sizzled as he commanded them to obey his will. It was becoming exceedingly easier to control them, probably the result of his long-lasting soberness. 

There was a cold breath on his face. 

It was a tall man, in his thirties maybe, with a noticeable dent in his skull. Klaus swallowed, nodding. Another ghost appeared from behind him, a woman who seemingly had lost her entire jaw. Klaus shuddered slightly but decided that this wasn’t the time to deal with his ever-present fear of the dead.

The energy within him strained and whined, slithering inside the veins of his hands, as he forced more and more ghosts out of the veil and into the physical world. Klaus bit down hard, guiding the spirits towards the fallen rubble. 

They grabbed the rocks together, lifting wordlessly. 

Twenty ghosts working as a hivemind was better than three humans.

Well, two, since Vanya was in no condition to even stand.

Well, actually, just one, since Klaus was in no way strong enough to move any of that.

“Wow”, Diego breathed as he watched the ghosts working. The more time passed, the more Klaus was getting nauseous. 

He looked up at the ashen sky. The thick layer of clouds and ash was covering the sun. Like they were under a great shadow. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath. Klaus could physically feel his strength dwindling, the last wisps of his energy falling into nothingness like droplets of water traveling down the window of a car on a freeway.

He had to stop. 

Klaus released the ghosts he’d summoned, and the only reason he didn’t buckle to the ground was the fact that Diego grabbed him by arm, and held him up on a firm grip. 

“You good?” he asked, concerned.

_Nope._

“Yea, I’m fine”, he sighed, leaning on his knees. “That’s the best I could do for now.”

“Guys!” Vanya shouted. Klaus popped his head up.

He was fairly confident that he wouldn’t keel over at once, so he walked towards the rubble where Vanya stood. 

A faint, shaky, but unmistakably audible ' _hello'_ called out to them from below the rocks and the dusty pieces of broken equipment and cement. 

“Allison?” Klaus’s heart jumped in anticipation, clinging to the hope of seeing his sister alive like a lifeline. 

She was in deep - at least fifteen feet below them. 

“Allison!” Vanya’s voice broke as she called out to her. “Are you okay?”

Klaus could hear her coughing from below the ground. “Me and Luther, we’re both okay. We’re just stuck.”

The man found himself thanking the little girl in Heaven. Thanking her for preserving the lives of his siblings for a little while longer.

Hopefully for long enough to give them more time to save the world. 

“What do we do now?” Vanya swallowed, her eyes wandering over to her brothers. 

Klaus was at a loss. 

“What happened?” Diego presented the question everyone was wondering. 

“End of the world?” Klaus suggested, looking around in the suffocating storm of heat and dust. He heard distant war cries from afar. 

“Klaus, Vanya”, Allison’s voice reached them again. It sounded frail, but simultaneously held the headstrong tone prone to her. “We need your memories as well. I really think we were close.”

Diego shook his head slowly. “Your doctor friend is dead. I’m sorry, Allison.”

She fell silent, but Klaus could sense her grief. It swirled up and reached him, suffocated him as if someone had wrapped a scarf around his neck and began tightening it. 

“We’ll figure something out”, Klaus stated slowly. “She’s right. We need to finish it. It’s the only shot we’ve got.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” Diego raised his brows. 

Klaus would’ve rather not thought about the ‘what ifs’, but his brother was making it really difficult. 

“Well, then we’re all royally fucked.”

_Is that what you want to hear?_

* * *

  
  


“How are we going to do this?” asked Vanya quietly. She was sitting cross-legged facing Klaus, who was mirroring her position. They’d found a quiet corner in the ghost town that had once been New York City. 

Diego had stayed behind with Luther and Allison, working tirelessly to free them from their prison. And that left her with the terrifying questions swirling around in her head.

How was she going to remember Five?

And would it even help with anything?

Was any of this even doing anything?

Was this finally the end?

“ **_Vanya._ **”

A voice penetrated her darkest thoughts, clear as day. She opened her eyes in surprise. That wasn’t Klaus’ voice. 

That was…

( _Harlan._ )

She saw his dog before she saw him. The collie ran up to her with a twinkle in her eye, barking as a greeting as if they were old friends.

Klaus’s jaw hung open. “A doggie?”

Vanya’s eyes were stinging. Her smile widened. “It’s Harlan”, she managed to say weakly. 

"The dog is Harlan?" her brother stared, eyes wide.

She shook her head, smiling.

The old, bearded figure of a man showed up to the end of the shadowy, dust-filled alley they were sitting in. 

“ **_I think you two could use some help._ **”

* * *

Klaus hadn’t known much about the little boy that Vanya had watched over during her stay on Sissy’s farm, but he did know that they’d shared a special bond. 

To have him show up here, now, in their hour of need, as time itself was unraveling all around them…

In his book, it was nothing short of a miracle. And usually, miracles didn’t happen. Not in his life. 

Klaus watched as Vanya embraced Harlan, and he slowly patted her on the back. 

“ **_We don’t have a second to waste_ ** ”, his voice sounded serene inside his head. “ **_Klaus, you first._ **”

His good mood immediately dropped. 

This was going to be far from pleasant.

“I’m ready”, he swallowed. 

( _I’m not ready._ )

“ **_Close your eyes.”_ **

**** Klaus did.

“ **_Count to a hundred._ **”

Klaus did.

“ **_Listen to the sound of your heartbeat._ **”

Klaus did. 

He waited for the sound of the rhythmic beat of his heart to be interrupted by Harlan’s voice again, but it didn’t. 

Klaus got the uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched, but he refused to open his eyes. 

Instead, he counted his breaths. 

He got to a hundred. 

Someone was whispering his name.

It wasn’t Harlan. 

Klaus felt his hands get clammy, as a chill ran up his spine. 

There was someone in there with him. Inside his own head. 

“Dad?” he wondered, staring into the darkness. 

( _No. It’s not him_.)

This was something much more sinister.

Klaus felt something reach out towards him from the abyss. 

Someone, rather. 

Klaus remembered him. It was the eyes.

It had taken him years of therapy to forget those eyes. 

The irises were pitch black. Completely devoid of light - like those of a great white shark’s. They drilled into his very soul, hungrily devoured the innocence they saw, and Klaus felt like he was drowning. 

He heard his own pleas for help. 

“ _Klaus. Hey. It’s me.”_

His heart skipped a beat. Then another. 

“ _Five?”_

“ _Yeah. I’m sorry it took so long. I tried to look for that movie you wanted, but I couldn’t find it. I’m sorry. I brought this instead.”_

Klaus saw his brother’s face in the darkness, lit up by the beam of the flashlight. The movie he’d stolen was called _Edward Scissorhands_. Five’s green eyes looked at Klaus up and down, worriedly taking in his shaken appearance. 

( _It’s… really good to see you._ )

Five’s pocket-sized media player came in handy during times like these. Klaus focused his eyes on the small screen instead of the empty, cold walls of the mausoleum. 

“ _Thanks for coming, Five_ ”, Klaus whispered, a heavy lump growing in his chest. 

“ _Always._ ”

“ **_Good. Find something else. Don’t stop until you remember everything._ **”

Klaus had almost forgotten that he was looking at memories. 

“ _I swallowed an apple seed!”_ he heard himself cough. 

“ _Oh my god”,_ Diego gasped. “ _You know that’s gonna grow in your stomach, right?_ ”

“ _No it’s not!”_ he heard a voice he knew to belong to Five. “ _It would need water, soil, sunlight, and oxygen.”_

“ _Well, Klaus breathes, that’s oxygen”_ , Diego looked thoughtful. “ _He drinks water. Check. Whenever he talks outside, sunlight gets in. Check. And instead of soil, it’ll just use his entrails!”_

“ _This is why you needed my help to pass the biology test dad made us take-”_

Klaus smiled fondly. 

But this wasn’t what he needed. 

Sitting in the darkness, he began to hear music. 

It was Vanya, playing her violin. The sound was faint, the melody dimmed by the wall between her and Klaus. 

He was sitting on the floor, at the foot of his bed, just staring ahead, and listening to the faint violin.

Klaus was sad. He didn’t remember why, at first.

He heard a sharp zapping sound, one he had already forgotten. 

How could he have ever forgotten that sound?

It was Five. His power made that dumb sound whenever he used it. 

The boy sat down next to him, a quizzical look in his eye. 

Five had always seen through his siblings better than the rest. “ _What’s wrong_?”

Klaus glanced at him nonchalantly. “ _Forget it._ ”

“ _No. Tell me_.”

He sighed. “ _What’s the point?_ ”

“ _You’re upset. Maybe I can help_.”

Klaus shut his eyes, a smile climbing to his face. Yes, that was Five. He knew that boy like the back of his hand. Better than he knew himself. 

“ _I saw this… dog. When we were coming back from the mission today. He looked old and sick, and like he was hurt. I wanted to stop and help, but dad wouldn’t let me. He said I had better things to do with my time.”_

Klaus swallowed. He remembered the pathetic little thing - the dog was old, his fur had been matted with dirt and grime, and his beady little eyes had stared back at him. 

_Help me_ , they'd begged.

Five was silent for a while, glancing at his watch. “ _Come on then.”_

Klaus raised his brows. “ _What?_ ”

“ _As far as mom and dad know, we’re all asleep by now. Come on. Let’s go find the dog.”_

_“Seriously?”_

“ _Shh_ ”, Five shushed him quickly. 

“ _Sorry.”_

The two boys sneaked into the hallway. Pogo was probably already asleep too, and mom would be in her usual spot, watching her paintings. 

Dad would be in his study. 

Their steps made no noise. Five dug up a pair of flashlights from the cabinet downstairs, and instead of using the front door, they climbed out through the window facing the garden. 

The pouring rain from before had stilled into a steady drizzle. 

“ _Where did you see him_?” asked Five as they climbed over the fence surrounding their home. 

“ _He was in an alley. Like a mile from here, I think._ ”

“ _Better get going then_.”

( _Oh. Please come back. Please be alright._ )

Klaus’s eyes stung. 

He remembered. He remembered all of it.

* * *

The skin on Diego’s palms was broken and bloody from the sharp edges of the rock he’d been moving. His muscles ached. 

Allison and Luther were still stuck. And they needed him. 

Diego prayed that Vanya and Klaus could finish what they’d started, and maybe fix this nightmare.

A wild cry came from nearby - way closer than what Diego found comfortable. 

Then another. 

He sniffled, eyes raking the dust. 

Then he saw them.

“ _Fucking_ great”, Diego cursed, properly pissed off from both mental and physical exhaustion. “Just what we needed. God damn _Indians_ on top of everything else.”

He hid behind the nearest rock and told Allison and Luther to stay quiet as they passed. 

Diego’s eyes followed the men carrying their spears and bows, dressed in animal skins and wearing feathers in their hair. 

_What a time to be alive_ , he thought.

“Diego”, Luther’s voice hissed from below him. 

“Shhh”, he hissed. 

“Diego.”

“ _What_?”

“Allison turned into a baby.”

Diego’s brain struggled to catch up with what Luther was saying, as the group of Indians that was creeping around just a few feet away began to clash together with the soldiers of the continental army, who had appeared from seemingly nowhere. 

What a time to be alive, indeed.

* * *

Vanya’s head hurt, but Harlan’s voice inside her skull was like a splash of cool water on her skin, rejuvenating. 

“ **_Your bond with Five is deeper than anyone else’s. If anyone can open the rift between reality and that which has been forgotten, it is you._ **”

Vanya grabbed his words, and held onto them, held them tight against her fluttering heart. 

Her siblings were counting on her. Relying on the fact that she could somehow bring back their brother. 

It was new to her. All her life she’d been forced to feel insignificant. Like it didn’t matter what she did, what she thought, or what she wanted. 

Not anymore. 

Vanya bit her lip and tried to relax her tensed muscles. 

She focused on calming the irregular rhythm of his heart. 

“ **_Find out what he meant to you.”_ **

**** _(I don’t even remember what he looks like.)_

The realization made her heart throb painfully inside her chest. 

“ **_Vanya. You must remember._ **” 

She drew comfort from his voice and gulped a lungful of air. 

She could do this. 

Vanya tried to think of a melody - something she often did when she was having a panic attack. _Merry go round of life_ was the first piece to come to her mind. She hummed it inside her head, forbidding her thoughts from wandering. 

Vanya felt her heartbeat slow down. Her breathing took a sluggish pace. 

The touch of Harlan’s dog on her hand gave her comfort.

( _You’re not alone at the table anymore, Vanya.)_

That’s right. 

Vanya opened her eyes. Her siblings were all gathered for dinner. She sat across from their father. 

It was silent. 

They all looked so young. Couldn’t have been older than thirteen. 

Vanya flinched at the sudden sound of a knife sinking into a table. She turned her head around to see a boy sitting next to him. 

Dark hair, prominent cheekbones, defiantly glimmering, green eyes. 

Of course. She would know that face anywhere. 

It was Five. The brother who had always been there for her. Who’d sat in her room and held her hand whenever father had said something to make her cry. Who’d listened to every new piece of music she’d learned. Who’d lent her an ear whenever she needed to talk to someone. 

_Oh, god._

Bile rose up in her throat.

( _How could I forget_?)

 _(How_ **_could_ ** _I?)_

_“I want to time travel!”_

_“No.”_

Vanya felt the familiar, age-old anxiety raise its head inside her chest as her eyes followed her brother. Everyone knew it wasn’t a good idea to butt heads with dad, but Five had always done it most out of all of them. 

She watched them argue. Watched as his eyes flickered over to meet hers, tried to shake her head ever so slightly, wordlessly begged him to back down.

He didn’t. 

“ _Number Five!”_

When the floodgate to her memories was opened, there was no stopping it. 

No stopping the memory of the endless, sleepless nights of waiting, and hoping for him to return. 

After Five left, Vanya had been alone. 

So, so alone. 

She shared a house with nine other people, and yet, she was sure she’d been the loneliest person in the whole world. 

After Five left. 

( _Why did you leave?_ )

Vanya’s chest ached with the force of the sobs. She couldn’t stop them.

Somewhere far away she could hear Klaus’ voice, talking in a hushed, calming tone, his hand grabbing hers.

“ _Vanya, we don’t have the time!”_

She remembered anger.

“ _Because you’ll listen.”_

She remembered blood.

“ _You owe me one, sis.”_

He’d smiled. 

She remembered love. 

Vanya gasped for air. She blinked rapidly in the dark, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the change of scenery, away from the flashing colors inside her head. 

She heard it. The sound reminded her of faulty electricity. 

Vanya turned around. He was so small, so frail. 

And his eyes. God, his eyes.

Blue light danced in their depths, still failing to cover the look of pain and defeat.

“ _You know me.”_

He sounded so relieved. 

( _I know you_.)

“ _Time’s just trying to fix itself. It’s… erasing me.”_

_(No, no, no.)_

Nothing. Her head was screaming.

( _Can’t you stop it?)_

Her lungs refused to expand.

“ _You’re gonna forget me.”_

_(No, I won’t. I won’t. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t-)_

_“Vanya, you will.”_

( _Please don’t go.)_

_“Remember.”_

_(I remember.)_

* * *

  
  


Five had been swimming in and out of conscious thought for what he assumed was a very long time. His timeline couldn’t be far from being done erasing itself.

Shouldn’t be long now. He’d be gone soon. 

At least that’s what he hoped. There was no point existing like this.

He was nothing but a shadow of a memory. 

Five wasn’t sure if he even technically existed. 

( _I think. Therefore I am.)_

Right?

His existence had turned into a grey sludge. And so he sat in the dusty remnants of a room that was once his. 

Waiting. 

For what? 

Resolve? Death? Release from this torment?

Who knew. 

It came to a stop when blue light flooded the room, warding away the endless grey. 

Five opened his eyes. 

Something was happening. 

Confused, he turned around to see where the light was coming from.

Oh, that familiar, electric-blue light. He'd thought he'd never see it again.

The door to his room was open.

Five got up to his feet and walked up to the door that had once been a gateway into endless abyss. 

What he saw then, was a lot for his brain to process. 

The abyss was still there. Still suffocating with its presence, pushing in from the sides, threatening to devour everything into the maw of the void. 

But right in front of him, floating in the abyss and stretching across, as far as eye could see, was something else. 

It was like a galaxy consisting of throbbing, living threads. It strangely reminded Five of jellyfish, floating in the vast emptiness of the endless ocean, beautiful and frail and _alien._

Five knew what it was. Of course he did. 

He’d never dreamt of seeing the time vortex as a physical manifestation since it wasn’t supposed to be possible. 

A lot of things didn’t seem to make sense these days. 

It was rather beautiful, thought Five. 

But there was also something wrong with it. The ends of the thin, glowing threads of energy seemed to be decaying, darkening rapidly. 

Five recalled something Klaus had said on the phone. 

_The timeline’s collapsing. You hear that, Five? The world’s ending again._

( _Yeah. I hear you._ )

Believing it and actually seeing it happen in front of his eyes were two different things. 

The blue light emanating from the wisps of energy was flickering in some parts. 

(“ _Five, you’re… flickering.”)_

That’s what Vanya had said to him when he’d initially disappeared. 

Why and how was this door open?

And how come he was so close to the time vortex he could almost touch it?

Five swallowed, a shiver running up his spine. 

What would it be like to touch _time_? He knew his body was capable of manipulating it, running through it as a passenger.

But this was an unnatural situation. Not meant to happen. Ever. 

This was… apocalyptic. 

A crazy idea swam around inside his head. 

An idea, that would most likely end him for once and for all. Or, if he was lucky… it might just work. 

What was in Five’s body that made him susceptible to time? What was it that made him be able to do the things he did?

For a few seconds, he was nearly disappointed that their dad hadn’t deemed it necessary to conduct any genetic experimentation or otherwise dissect them. 

Five balled his fists. 

( _What am I supposed to do, Delores?_ )

He missed her terribly. He wondered what she was doing right then. 

Probably enjoying the company of her friends. Wearing some lovely new attire that would fit her perfectly. Silently judging the passersby. He wondered… had Delores forgotten him, too?

What would she say, if she was here with him?

Five looked at the vortex in front of him, holding his breath. 

A small eternity passed, and he just looked at it. So beautiful, so volatile. 

He had to go. 

Five was terrified, but he did it anyway. 

He blinked headfirst into the swirling, blue current. 

His last thought was of Delores. 

( _God, I can’t wait to see her again_.)

* * *

It was violent, to say the least. It hurt, but not too much to be unbearable. A burst of energy so powerful that it destroyed his cells as it fused with his blood. The pure energy, pure _time_ coursed through his veins with an effort at first, but settled to a neat stream within seconds. 

Five felt _everything_. 

Despite it burning and twisting within him, he felt _alive_. After the grey mist his existence had been filled with, it was nothing short of exhilarating. 

And within a matter of seconds, it was over. Five’s body dissolved into the pulsing stream of energy, leaving him floating within the storming vortex as nothing but a strayed consciousness. 

Was there anybody here? Five wondered. 

And where did his body go? 

Was this the end? Had his body blown up from the amount of energy like confetti?

Five felt a sense of calm fill him. That could not be the case. He couldn’t exist without a body. 

But if that were so, what form or shape was his body in now?

How long had he been floating here?

( _How long?_ )

An eternity. A fraction of a second.

Five had no body, and yet he found he could move. 

( _So what am I moving_?)

Centuries flashed past his eyes. He saw the fall of Pompeii. The sickly, twisting horrors of the Black Plague. A thousand battles, sparked from a petty squabble, the promise of freedom, or hunger for power.

Time was unraveling before his very eyes. 

It had to stop. This was wrong. 

Five couldn’t stop the overwhelming, suffocating flow of the collapsing time. Every moment, every millisecond, stored in this vast mass he was now a part of. 

A part of the vortex.

And then he found it. 

It was like a throbbing, bleeding wound; blackened edges, spreading poison across the web of time. 

Five had been wrong about the cause.

But he could see it now.

* * *

It was 1993. East London. 

The residence belonged to Ronnie and Anita Gill. 

The memory had been previously muddled in his head. Pushed to the back, like most of his hits. He liked to detach himself from the horrors the Commission had him commit.

( _God. The things I’ve done_.)

This was never what he’d intended to become. 

Five saw himself pull out the pistol. Saw the Handler wait inside the car outside. 

He knew what would happen next. He would pull the trigger, kill both of them instantly. 

Except… he didn’t. 

Someone burst in through the door, and Five saw himself spin around in shock. 

_Lila_.

She looked older. Way older. She must’ve in her fifties. She had a nasty scar over her eye, and her hair was on a long, messy ponytail. 

Her eyes were flaring with both pain and anger. 

She surged forwards and kicked the old man in the gut. 

Stumbling, trying to adapt to the unexpected turn of events, Five regained his balance and fired his gun in her general direction. 

Lila was quick. Five didn’t often miss. 

Five blinked away to get some distance between the two - to get a better chance at properly aiming, and hitting a shot. 

Lila copied his ability. She blinked behind him. 

Five pulled out a knife. 

She got a cut in the arm. 

Five went in for her throat. Lila reflected the attack with a strong punch to his stomach. 

She grabbed the hilt of the knife, embracing the small fraction of an opportunity. 

The knife sank into Five’s heart. 

There was silence. Lila looked at him in shock. 

She hadn’t meant to do that. 

Five sank to the ground unceremoniously. 

His blood was so dark it looked black. 

The Handler burst in through the door. 

A little girl opened the cabinet door behind which she’d been hiding.

Blue light swallowed the scene, devouring everything in its path. 

* * *

Time was a delicate element. It wasn’t meant to be played with. 

This was the root of the problem, Five realized. A paradox so big that it wiped out everyone involved, therefore causing a chain reaction. If there was no Handler, no Five, no Lila, anywhere in the timeline…

It would all collapse. Without the support pillars that they’d once brought to the structure of the fragile stream of time, it all came crashing down. 

( _I understand now_.)

But Five could fix this, right?

The timeline ejected three people. Three important people. There should be no memory of them left. 

Except that there was. Five was here, and God knew how. The storms of the vortex hadn't destroyed him yet.

There was still a chance.

The memory of the Handler and Lila should be enough to bring them back. He remembered them. That should be enough, right?

Five was a creature of time. His body was capable of traveling through every possible instance of time. Anywhere in the world. Anytime in history. Anytime in the future. 

Five could exist everywhere at once. 

The vortex welcomed him like an old friend. He wore time well. 

The Handler belonged here. 

The blackened threads slowly turned back to blue. 

Lila belonged here.

And Five…

Five belonged here, too. 

It was almost magical. How time obeyed him like a well-trained hound.

He had no hands, no fingers. No legs. 

Time itself was his body. 

The timeline, previously littered with holes like a honeycomb, was being filled up as the missing people were placed back. 

A memory was all it took. Someone who remembered. 

Five found his family. They were in trouble - the last place he found them in, was a New York split in two, with the apocalypse from an aborted branch of time on the other side, and the Ice Age on the other. 

He could straighten these wrinkles with nothing more but a thought. And soon enough, time was almost straightening itself.

All it had needed was a nudge in the right direction. 

Five hesitated a moment. His siblings. They wouldn’t appreciate having memories stolen from them. 

They should be allowed to keep them. 

This branch of time was being unwritten, so Five tore them a portal into the freshly knitted fabric of time. All they had to do was jump through. 

Five made sure they’d end up safe and sound.

No more bleeding time. 

* * *

Vanya couldn’t believe it. A burst of breathless laughter escaped her chest. A bright, blue-rimmed portal had opened up at the end of the alley. 

Five would walk out of there. Right?

He had to. 

“ **_That door is not for Five_ ** ”, Harlan told her softly. “ **_That’s for you_ **.”

“For us?” Vanya repeated, confused. She exchanged glances with Klaus, her hesitation mirroring the look in his eye. 

“ **_It’ll take you home. I promise._ **”

 _This is crazy_ , thought Vanya. 

But how could she not trust Harlan?

Klaus wordlessly slid his hand around hers.

“Together”, he mouthed. His green eyes were soft. Kind.

Vanya smiled, a sense of gratitude filling her heart. The world had rarely been kind to her. 

( _Thank you_.)

* * *

Five had made sure the timeline he’d worked so hard to preserve was on its correct path. He’d almost ended up having his siblings end up in a timeline where their dad had adopted a bunch of different kids and called them the _Sparrow Academy._

It would have been a costly mistake. 

The flow of time within the vortex had reduced from a twisted storm into a calm stream. 

Just as it should be. 

But before he could go back home, there was one more thing for him to do. 

East London, 1993. Five found himself in the cobblestone alley, right in front of the door leading to the Gill residence. 

He tried to materialize, but the best he could do was a vaguely boy-shaped figure consisting entirely of blue energy. It would do. 

Lila showed up from behind the nearby corner. She was sweating, running towards the door like her life depended on it. 

Her eyes landed on the mass of light blocking her way. She stopped. 

Five reached out his arm towards her. She saw his own light reflect off of her huge, dark eyes.

_Neither of us should be here._

Five took them someplace where he’d hoped never to visit again. 

The prison where the Commission took all the time terrorists was not a happy place. Maximum security was a mild term for this place. 

It made Five uneasy just to be there. He’d put a lot of people here behind bars. 

Five had frozen time for everyone but two guards, who were standing outside cell block One. 

They stared at him with widened, terrified eyes, watching his illuminating form in alarm. 

“ **This is the person responsible for the most recent, and the most severe case of time terrorism in the Commission history** ”, Five’s voice sounded distorted to his own ears. “ **Every single chairperson will confirm my story. Ask them. Lock her up.** ”

The guards didn’t utter a word, but after a few seconds of contemplation, they began nodding furiously. Five willed the flow of time to return to normal, and so it did. 

Lila blinked rapidly, turning her head around in confusion. 

She stared at the apparition in front of her with an open mouth. She even let the men handcuff her. 

Five’s work here was done. The timeline would be fine now. 

He could finally go back home. 

* * *

It was April 7th. 

Vanya found herself back in the sunlit living room back at the academy. 

Luther, Diego, Allison, and Klaus were all there with her. They looked at each other, confused and alert, but… hopeful. 

Vanya saw it in their eyes.

Hope.

What had happened? Was everything okay?

“Did we do it?” Diego was the first one to speak. 

“We must have”, Luther laughed nervously. “I mean. Allison’s back to normal.”

“Back to normal?” she raised her brows. “What do you mean?”

“Um”, Luther looked slightly constipated. “You turned into a baby.”

“ _What_?”

“Guys!” Klaus yelled. “We must have fixed it! We remembered Five, and now everything looks normal again.”

“I agree”, Vanya murmured, eyeing at the sky from the nearest window. “No pterodactyls.”

“Okay”, Allison nodded. “So… where’s Five?”

* * *

Five’s eyes flashed open, and he breathed heavily as he took in his surroundings. 

( _Oh, God, no. Please, no_.)

Anxiety rose up in his chest as a suffocating force.

Not this room. Anything but this blasted room. He’d lost himself in this room.

But… there was sunlight. It flooded in through the small window. The rays lit up the half-melted phone hanging on the wall. 

( _I_ _... made it_?)

Five scrambled up to his feet, shakily putting his hand on the doorknob. 

( _I made it, didn’t I_?)

He opened the door. 

A wave of relief ran through him with such an overwhelmingly powerful force, he had to take a step back and lean against his knees. 

Five stayed there. Just breathing. 

Out of curiosity, he tried to bend time to his will again. It had been so effortless, so natural when he’d been one with the vortex. 

Now? Nothing. 

The reins of the timestream belonged to no one.

And Five was home. 

* * *

Allison’s question hung in the air.

Where was Five?

“Let’s try his room, maybe?” Klaus suggested with a wavering voice. 

Vanya didn’t feel comfortable with the fact that their long-lost brother was nowhere to be seen.

Surely he had to be there. Surely they’d fixed it now. 

Surely everything was okay.

( _Please. Let it be okay_.)

“Hello?” 

Her heart missed a beat.

The voice was faint, coming from the direction of the main staircase. Probably the second floor. 

And yet, recognition and relief basked their faces in sunny smiles. Vanya was the first one to rush through the door.

Flooding the entrance hall, they faced the staircase in anticipation. 

Vanya didn’t dare to blink. The sun was in her eyes, but she didn’t care. 

( _Come on, Five_.)

And then she saw him. All skin and bones, big green eyes, pale skin, a mop of black hair. Just like the day he’d disappeared. 

( _Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Whoever is in charge of miracles, thank you_.)

Five smiled. Vanya sobbed as the sense of crushing relief rushed over her, and took a step forwards. 

Five was faster. Blinking to knit up the space between them, he wrapped his arms around her, and she could feel him _right there_ , and he was _okay_ and _breathing_ and so, so _real-_

She felt Klaus and Allison join their embrace, felt their heartbeats against her body, and soon enough the strong and firm arms of both Luther and Diego. 

Vanya buried her face to the nook of Five’s neck and didn’t let go. 

“Don’t you ever do that again”, she sniffled. “You hear me?”

“I won’t.” 

  
  


* * *

Klaus hadn’t been that happy for a long, long time.

They were all okay. Back home. Five was right there, and he could feel the boy against him. 

Real, alive, well. 

But when did these things last, anyway?

It happened so fast. Klaus barely felt anything, but he grasped his chest in confusion, anyway. 

He felt nothing as he fell to the floor. 

It was an eerily familiar feeling. He hadn’t felt that numb in a long, long time.

Klaus was confused. He could hear Allison scream something, Diego shaking him, but it was barely registering. 

Blackness swallowed him, took him in like he was an old friend. 

* * *

Klaus awoke on a beach. 

He blinked in confusion, watching the seagulls fly above his head on the clear blue sky. 

Was this his heaven?

“Hello, again”, a voice greeted him. 

Klaus sat up quickly, shaking sand off of his clothes. “What do you want?”

He eyed at the little girl suspiciously. 

“I wanted to talk to you”, she replied with a shrug. 

“I have a phone, you know”, he murmured with a pout. “No need to kill me every time you want a chat.”

The girl waved him off. “I wanted to thank you. For preserving the timeline. It would’ve been… most unfortunate to have my creation be undone like that.”

Klaus raised his brows quizzically. “But you were okay with the other two apocalypses? And why pick me? I have five siblings!”

“Apocalypse is different than having the entire stream of time be destroyed”, she replied, raising her chin. “I could’ve fixed it myself, but I was… preoccupied.”

“ _Preoccupied…_ ” Klaus repeated mockingly but held his tongue. “Yeah. No problem.”

“And I picked you because we have a history”, she shrugged. “Nothing personal. I don’t specifically like you, or anything.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Anyhoo”, she cleared her throat, plastering a smile on her face. “I hear it’s common among humankind to show gratitude in the form of presents.”

Klaus narrowed his eyes. This was certainly not what he’d expected. 

“...Right?”

“Well, I wish to give you a gift. One that will make your whole family feel appreciated”, the girl spoke quickly. “Or something. What would you like?”

“We can have _anything_?”

“Anything.”

Klaus swallowed nervously. Why did it have to be him in a situation like this? Big decisions were not his forte, and he certainly didn’t want to go on making decisions for his entire family. 

He thought of asking for no more apocalypses. Thought of asking them to be happy for the rest of their lives. Maybe for all of them to find love. 

None of them seemed right. 

“Well?” the girl asked impatiently. 

“Ben.”

“Sorry?”

“Ben. Our brother. Can you return him to life?” Klaus looked her right in the eye. 

Her eyes looked like they belonged to a human, but the more he looked, the more he saw inconsistencies. Secrets and ancient wisdom deeper than the oceans swam within them, staring right through him. Most notably, they lacked compassion. Lacked warmth.

“Why?” asked the girl finally. “I mean… I can, but may I ask why?”

Klaus was baffled. “What do you mean, why? He’s our _brother_ . He died when he was fourteen and then spent the next decade following me around as a ghost. He deserved _more_.”

“Deserved more”, she repeated, but it did not look as if she understood what he meant. 

Klaus paused, taking in a deep breath. “I want him back because he’s my brother and I love him.”

“Love”, the girl said slowly, as if testing the word in her mouth. “ _Love_.”

“Do you know what love is?” asked Klaus. He was almost sure he knew the answer. 

The girl looked at him with a quizzical expression but did not reply. 

“Klaus?” 

( _Oh_.)

He closed his eyes for half a second, thankful for the fact that he’d been able to hear his voice again. 

“Heya, Ben.”

Klaus turned around. His brother stood before his eyes, wearing his trademark leather jacket, eyes darting around the beach in confusion. 

“Um… you died too?”

“Nah, nah”, he shook his head. “Just visiting.”

“How long has it been for you?” Ben asked uneasily. 

“Let’s see - it’s the 7th of April. About fifteen past two in the afternoon, if I’m correct”, Klaus murmured, refusing to blink away from Ben. 

The moment wouldn’t last. He’d hold onto it for as long as he could. He wouldn’t miss a second. 

“Five got erased from the timeline, and it caused another apocalypse”, Klaus shrugged. “But it’s cool now. We brought him back. Seemed to have fixed it.”

“Cool”, Ben nodded, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “What are we doing here?”

“Ask her”, Klaus shrugged towards the girl, who turned her gaze towards Ben. 

There was a moment of silence, as the brothers waited for her to speak.

“Would you like to be alive again?” she finally asked. Ben’s eyes widened. 

“Uh”, he stuttered, seemingly struggling to find a proper answer.

_Please, say yes,_ Klaus begged him wordlessly. Ben spared him a glance, flashed him a tight smile. 

“I mean. I suppose.”

“Is that a yes?” the girl began to sound impatient. 

“Um… yes?”

“Great. It’s settled then.”  
She snapped her fingers. The beach disappeared.

  
  


* * *

“ _He’s not breathing!”_

“ _This can’t be happening-”_

“ _We need to start chest compressions-”_

“ _His heart’s stopped_!”

Klaus gasped for air, eyes widening.

He was met with the tear-tracked, confused faces of his siblings, hovering over him. Vanya stared at him with a broken look in her eyes, lashes glued together with tears. 

It broke his heart.

“What-”

“Woah”, Klaus’s throat was dry. “Guys, you’ll never guess what just happened.”

* * *

“You sure you’re okay?” Five narrowed his eyes at the slightly light-headed Klaus, who passed him a glance.

“Me? I’m fine. What about you?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Klaus!” Diego grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around until they were face to face. Diego’s eyes were hardened with worry.

“What happened?” he asked, slowly and clearly. 

Klaus took in a steadying breath. “God wanted to talk with me. She was grateful because we stopped the timestream from exploding, and wanted to give us a gift.”

What followed, was perhaps the most awkward ten seconds of silence in Klaus’s life. 

“You’re trying to tell me you talked with _God_?” 

“ _She_?”

“What gift?”

Klaus shushed them furiously. “Shut up! The point is that she said she’d give us _anything._ So I asked her to give Ben back to us.”

“You’re insane”, Luther said matter-of-factly, as if he’d just come to the realization. 

“No kidding”, Five murmured.

“You’re just tripping, bro”, Diego shook his head slowly. 

Klaus was, of course, used to his siblings not believing a word he had to say. He couldn’t really blame them - most of the time he was talking out of his ass - but when it came to his abilities, he tended to tell the truth. 

It wasn’t his fault that he had a ridiculously intimate relationship with the afterlife.

“Okay, so where is he?” Allison raised her brows. “She gave Ben back to us. Where is he?”

That was another question entirely. 

Klaus suddenly feared to have Ben back as a fourteen-year-old. 

“Oh, my God”, he breathed. “You guys think he might be inside his _grave_?” 

“Buried alive?” Vanya’s jaw dropped. 

“Guys, come on”, Luther huffed. “I mean, this is ridiculous.”

Allison crossed her arms. “More ridiculous than everything else we’ve been through?” 

Their discussion was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. 

For a few seconds, they were all frozen still. 

“I’ll get it”, Diego murmured, speed walking to the front door. “Hello?”

Klaus frowned, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever was by the door. 

“Greetings! I have a letter here addressed to _the Hargreeves_?”

Curiosity officially peaked, Klaus wandered closer. The man by the door was tall, balding, and looked to be from the Post. 

The rest of his siblings were quick to follow, warily eyeing at the postman as he pulled out an envelope. 

“Yeah, that’s us”, Luther said slowly. 

“Woah”, the man breathed, looking almost giddy. “We took bets at the office on whether you’d actually be here. This envelope’s a bit of a legend at our place. Uh, sign here, please.”

Diego scraped his signature on the form the man was shoving towards him and accepted the envelope with slightly shaky hands. 

“That letter has been in our possession since _1963_. That’s a whopping fifty-six years!” he laughed nervously. “It came to us with clear instructions. To deliver it to this address, at this exact time. Mind-boggling stuff.”

“Truly”, Klaus stated, studying the envelope resting in his brother’s hands. 

“Well, I’ll be going then”, the postman nodded awkwardly. “Smitty owes me twenty bucks!”

With that, the door was closed. 

Diego made no move to open the envelope, so Allison snatched it from his hands.

Klaus huddled closer as she ripped it open, his eyes devouring the neatly written words. 

“Read it out loud!” Vanya demanded, and Allison cleared her throat. 

“ _I_ _t'_ _s Ben. I hope this letter reaches you. If it doesn’t, I think I’m royally screwed._

_I know Klaus probably told you what happened. I also know you have a tendency to not believe him. He’s telling the truth this time - I’m alive._

_The thing is that I was returned to the place where I had my last conscious thought. I woke up in the messed-up FBI building. The date was the 23rd of November, 1963. I was, unfortunately, surrounded by very upset agents._

_It’s not a good look to show up unannounced, from thin air to a government facility where the deaths of numerous agents took place just a day prior._

_So anyway… I escaped. As I’m writing this letter, it’s 6:37 pm, on the 25th of November in 1963._

_I went ahead and hid at Ray Chestnut’s house. Sorry, Allison._

_He honestly thought he’d seen the last of us by now. He was even more confused because I told him I was the dead brother._

_So yeah, I’m in a bit of a pickle here. They’re looking for me, and I’m not sure how long I can hide. Please, hurry._

_Sincerely; Ben.”_

Klaus stared at the letter.

( _Holy shit_.)

Five spoke first. “Anyone up for a little more time travel?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Still not recovered, but was feeling well enough to finally finish this thing.  
> Hope you liked the grand finale, as well as the little cliffhanger thingy.  
> Consider the 'first season' of my Umbrella Academy fic done - the second storyline revolving around the 'Saving Private Ben' theme will be published once I've written it.  
> We'll see when that happens. Don't expect it anytime soon.  
> A huge thank you for your kind words and support when I was doing bad ❤  
> Seriously. Much love. See you for sure!
> 
> P.S. Yes, the ending was inspired by Back to the Future. Sue me.  
> P.P.S. Yep, I totally gave Five some god powers for a second there. It's my fic, I can do what I want.


End file.
